#like i feel like i could create better collection

[adrianastrix]

Another thing I'll add here is something that I was coincidentally discussing with a friend yesterday: this kind of issue can only be solved if our science education (and I'm talking BOTH Natural Sciences and Humanities) doesn't rely on teachers being simply a source of "correct" information.

I put "correct" in quotes because guys. GUYS. I was in a comitee for quality control of kids science textbooks (ages 11-14), and Jesus Christ. It was a book written in the Year of Our Lord 2022 and it had a SLUR as an "alternative name" to Down Syndrome. Not to mention information that was BLATANT WRONG when you as much as googled the legal definition of a certain thing, and much much more. We obviously bombed it, but there's the kicker: the only thing our ban ensured is that this textbook collection is out of question for Brazilian public schools. Private schools can use it, if they want to.

Which means that even schools can and, as much as we try, will spread misinformation, even if it's in a small scale. The teacher in the Twitter thread very astutely identified it as a crisis of authority. If education is just a matter of relaying "correct facts", it all comes down to a matter of authority. And the poor teacher feels hopeless because she can't even say, in good faith, that her word is inherently better than ChatGPT or Wikipedia or TikTok because, guess what, she could be wrong. There's no such thing as infallible authority.

There's only one solution, one that Education Scientists (which ARE a thing, I'm one of them!) have been saying since, I dunno, THE 18TH CENTURY: giving kids an education centered in DOING science, not memorizing its products. The teacher started amazingly by asking the kid to "look it up" in front of her. But what she COULD have done, if prepared for this kind of challenge (I obviously don't fault her for freezing when confronted by something for the first time) was to ask for the notebook or cellphone and show the student what she meant by "look it up" and how the results vary. And tell him that NO single source should be trusted, either her or ChatGPT, and when sources disagree, what should be the tiebreaker?

In other words, the only antidote is showing the kids HOW science is done, HOW you arrive at conclusions, and HOW documental research is done. Science isn't something that Very Smart Geniuses do in their ivory towers to create The Truth. It's science, not a sacred religious ministery. Science is mundane, messy, controversial, and everyone* can do it with a bit of training, just like everyone* can cook or sing or draw with the proper training. [*"everyone", of course, being a rethorical generalization; obviously there are circunstances in which people might NOT be able to do it, or might need especialized assistance that others don't need, but those are the exceptions, not the rule.]

The main reason why our education is stuck in memorization and trying to out-authority the internet has a name: Standard Testing.

It's LEAGUES easier to test for how many facts someone can spew exclusively from memory (you just need a multiple choice test that can be graded by a machine) than it is to test students for their ability of create, research and communicate knowledge (the current optimal way to do it is the whole process of writing a monography/dissertation/thesis).

The whole EVALUATION system holds us down WAY more than the teaching methods themselves, because when you are teaching scientific abilities, you WON'T be sparing time to ensure that all your students are commiting definitions and formulas to mind. At the VERY least, tests should allow students to search for the info they need: this alone already demonstrate that student's ability to research, compare and choose correct information.

The idea that you can compare kids by a test that quantifies the amount of information they have on their heads, and that once they perform well on a test, that info is certified as correct and true is RIDICULOUS. Information on the brain degrades with time, unless you need it constantly. And people who grade tests are human, humans can be wrong. The accepted answer in a test can be wrong.

But we have to maintain the illusion that we can OBJECTIVELY rank students, schools, school systems and nations on how much knowledge they have. Otherwise, how investors will be reassured that they are "top quality"? How private education businesses can boast that they are "the best", thus justifying their price tag? How international banks will "ensure" that the amount of money countries are investing in education are being "correctly spent" (instead of being used to repay them)?

Soooo... ChatGPT is only the tip of the iceberg. There ARE ways for us to solve that problem, there HAS been ways for it since the 18th FREAKING century. But as long as they don't make the money people happy, as long as we expect school knowledge to take the form of a standard list of memorized correct info, we will still be ineffectively fighting the robots.

[lie-lacdreams]

Tender (Curly x Reader)

here's a little oneshot that takes place in Thermodynamics & Turmoil but can be read separately. Sorry if the writing is a little weird - I wrote this at 3 am. I'll create a masterlist soon to clarify timelines as I write more of these.

This goes out to anyone who feels like there’s never an end in sight. I��m right there with you. Things will get better and all your hard work will pay off.

Engineer! Reader x Curly Word Count ~ 1.1k

Dread is an all-consuming feeling – she would know. Disaster always felt imminent, and if she didn’t burn the midnight oil, skip another meal to conserve a precious thirty minutes of time to scan through pages and pages of steam tables, her failure to figure out her responsibilities would fall on her crewmates. 

It was times like these where the cortisol would flood her system, leaving her in a permanent state of anxiety, numbing her to any other emotion. 

(Y/N) had her limits. She was human, after all. Pushed beyond her capacity a long time ago, she had no choice but to continue – she wouldn’t dare think about what would happen if she didn’t succeed. 

She was currently in the lounge, the familiar spread of her texts and loose papers over the table. Hungry and tired, she promised herself a snack after she had a breakthrough, but things weren’t looking promising. Just this morning (or was it technically yesterday morning now?), she sat where she was now, having spent the entire night with books open as the lounge screen grew brighter and brighter. At some point, Swansea made his way in to get some coffee and raised an eyebrow at her, wishing her a good morning. It embarrassed her to no end to be caught, and she tried to lie and claim that she just woke up early to get a head start on work. Scrambling to collect her things, she made her way somewhere else so she wouldn’t get caught by anyone else. 

(Y/N) knew at this point, Curly was very likely worried about her, but she knew that he would know better than to interrupt her when she needed to concentrate the hardest. While she wanted nothing more than to crawl into his arms and sleep, she knew her work was far from over. 

At this desperate hour at night, the bar for comfort was a low one. Taking a moment to strain her eyes towards the night time display, she thought it was the most beautiful thing she had seen all day. Looking back at the compressibility chart in front of her, waves of lines seemed to melt and swirl together into insignificance. She needed to sleep, but with so much at stake, she knew she couldn’t. Every hour down to the last minute counted now as the ship’s steam tunnels were a ticking bomb unless she could figure out how to decrease the pressure building up. 

Blame it on the heat exchangers that corporate failed to add safeguards to. Or the worn and weathered valves they refused to replace on the insulators. If only the ship were running the way it was supposed to, (Y/N) wouldn’t have to jump through hoops and reinvent the wheel. But alas, she was here now, fighting a valiant battle to keep her eyes open and her brain wired. 

The door opened, and (Y/N)’s eyes darted over to the noise and stuck to the man who entered through it. She typically never saw him out of uniform and in such casual clothes (she assumed what he was wearing now to be his pajamas). A simple white t-shirt spread over his chest and shoulders while he wore a simple pair of sweatpants. His wavy hair, usually parted and somewhat styled, was unruly and disheveled, likely from sleep. The tired expression on his face was unwavering, a deep seated frown and furrowed brows were not budging. 

“Hun, what are you still doing up?” He sounded disappointed, and she slouched further in her chair, ashamed. 

“Duty calls. I’m working on a tight deadline, Captain. The ideal gas law waits for no one, no matter how tired they may be.” She let out a loud sigh as he pressed the pads of his fingers into her shoulders in an attempt to sooth all the knots that accumulated in her muscles. 

“It’s frustrating knowing that I can’t do much to help you. I wish there was something I could do to make it better.” He sat beside her now, gently holding her face in his hands as he caressed the dark circles under her eyes with his thumbs. He brought her head closer to his lips to kiss her face. Her heart leapt, wanting nothing more than to crawl into his arms and feel the weight of his hold. 

Suppressing a whine, she put a hand over his. “You just being here now makes things better already.” 

Curly’s eyes brightened for a second before he stood up, tugging her hand to get up with him. “Come on, I have an idea.” He helped gather all of her supplies as they moved to the couch where he dragged the coffee table closer, moving board and card games to  place her things down. Sitting down in front of the table, he patted the spot between his legs, inviting her to sit with him. With a small chuckle, she sat, continuing with her work once more as he pressed a kiss on her neck and rubbed her shoulders. For an hour they sat in silence as (Y/N) worked diligently, the feeling of being under his hands grounding her to a greater degree than she was before. 

Finally, she put her pen down, leaning her back into Curly’s chest as he wrapped both of his arms around her. “All done?” He asked, hopeful.

“I think I’m in a good place to stop until tomorrow morning. At least this way I can get a couple of hours of sleep in. Swansea will need to help me with tightening and loosening the valves for what I need next, anyway.” There was a rush of giddiness that flooded her as she turned around and kissed him. They both leaned back more into the couch as he wrapped his arms around her and returned the kiss. Their movements were slow and lazy, likely a direct result of the fatigue they felt, but the grasp Curly had on her was warm and firm – secure and safe. 

“Thank you for staying with me. You made that more bearable than it typically is.” She looked down at him, now laying on his chest. He brought her to rest against him, one of his hands still rubbing her back. 

“I got you, hun.” he said simply. They laid in the silence of the early hours of the morning, savouring the warmth they shared a few minutes longer before (Y/N) reluctantly got up, Curly following suit. But even as they moved towards the door to head to their beds, his touch was ever present on her waist, and at her door he gave her one last kiss goodnight before heading to his own room. 

Working for Pony Express was harsh and unforgiving for her; she was never disclosed the amount of responsibility she would have to shoulder when she first joined, but now, lying in bed, exhausted and starving beyond belief, she couldn’t bring herself to feel regret and disdain. The job was hard, but at least she was here with him, and he treated her so tenderly.

[ashwhowrites]

Prompt angst 1 with Robin where reader hangs out less and less with Robin and when confronted it’s because she likes her but can’t compete with Vickie

What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough?

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

I hate her

Y/N tried her best to not fall for Robin's pretty face and clumsy personality. They were meant to be friends and nothing more, but Robin made her heart race and palms sweaty. But it didn't matter how Robin made her feel, she wasn't the one Robin wanted.

Robin had a crush on Vickie for over three months and it was silently killing Y/N. She was a good friend so she listened to Robin declare her love for Vickie all day every day. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt so bad if she was honest about how she felt. There was a time before Vickie, when Robin and Y/N were dancing over the friend line. A slight tease of what could be and Y/N basked in it until the light went out.

Now it was all Vickie. Robin didn't even spare a second glance at Y/N anymore. Vickie seemed to offer something better and Y/N couldn't help but feel replaced. She felt as if her efforts weren't good enough and it stung. Whatever Robin wanted from Vickie, Y/N could easily do. She felt like a kid begging for attention, doing anything to get Robin to look her way.

Y/N felt tired of trying. She was tired of how upset she felt whenever Robin turned to Vickie instead. Y/N was the original but Robin didn't seem to care. Y/N knew she deserved someone better and someone who made her feel first.

She began to spend less time with Robin, letting her heart heal. She didn't want their friendship to end but she needed space. At first, it seemed like Robin didn't notice and that made Y/N feel even worse. It hurt to see Robin focus all her attention on someone that wasn't her. The jealousy wasn't firey, it was more cold. She wasn't jealous in the way she wanted to show Vickie who Robin belonged to, it was the painful jealousy that kept her up at night and made her think less of herself.

As the days passed, Y/N barely saw Robin. Which is what she wanted but it proved that she only saw Robin when she initiated it. Robin didn't bother to make time to see her, which made her think the friendship might not be worth saving.

~~~

Robin swallowed her tears as she saw Vickie press her lips against a guy. They seemed familiar with each other, almost like they were a couple. Robin had this hope that Vickie was gay but she was wrong.

Steve placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, knowing how crushing the moment was for Robin. But Robin shoved his hand off and ran out of the store. She allowed herself to cry once she made it outside, the reality that she and Vickie would never be settling in.

~

Y/N was surprised to see Robin at her door but welcomed her in.

"What are you doing here?" Y/N asked, and her question sent Robin into a breakdown. Robin sobbed, making Y/N's heartbreak. She quickly wrapped her arms around her, trying to calm her down. "What's wrong?"

Robin pulled away to collect herself, wiping off her face. "Vickie has a boyfriend," she said in between tears. Y/N fought back the want to roll her eyes. She was unsuccessful in holding back her scoff though, easily catching Robin's attention.

"What?"

"I haven't seen you in days and you finally come but it's because you want comfort because of Vickie!" Y/N exclaimed, annoyance clear in her voice.

"I need my friend! Which you haven't been for the past few days," Robin bit back, her blue eyes squinting into a glare. Y/N laughed humorlessly, she crossed her arms and created more space between them.

"And yet you never cared enough to ask so seems like we are both shitty friends," Y/N snapped, a sharp smile on her face.

"What is your problem? What's with the sudden cold shoulder?" Robin asked she wanted her friend but she couldn't find her. "All I wanted was some comfort after my heart was shattered and you don't seem to give a shit."

"Because I don't, Robin!" Y/N snapped, her voice slightly rising. "I don't care about Vickie and I don't care about your love for her. I never cared and I never will. I hate Vickie. I hate the way she makes me feel and I hate how much you feel for her."

"What is that supposed to mean? How can you hate her when you've never had a conversation with her?"

"It doesn't matter," Y/N shrugged. "Maybe you should go."

But Robin stayed put. "No, we are going to talk. You are done avoiding me. I don't know what your problem is with Vickie but she doesn't deserve your cold treatment."

"What’s the point of trying if it just proves that I’ll never be good enough?. What is the point of telling you how much I'm in love with you when you'll never look my way? My problem with her is that you love her, Robin. And you don't love me." Y/N admitted, tears falling down her face as she looked at the floor.

Robin was stunned. She never once thought her best friend was in love with her. Hell, she didn't even know she was into girls. Robin swallowed her spit as she felt her throat get dry.

"I-um-I" Robin stuttered, truly at a loss for words. "I don't know what to say. I'm sorry."

Y/N bit down on the inside of her cheek, trying to keep more sobs back. "Can you just tell me if there's a chance for us?"

Robin looked into her wet eyes, watching the tears disappear down her chin. She watched as Y/N chewed on her cheek, trying to stand strong but it was clear to tell she was falling apart.

"No," Robin whispered, her heart aching as Y/N turned away from her. She reached out but Y/N flinched away.

"Please leave"

"Y/N, can we please talk through this," Robin pleaded. She didn't want to lose a friend. Y/N shook her head, still not turning around as a few cries left her mouth.

"No, Robin. No amount of talking will make this work. I can't be your friend, it's too hard," she sobbed.

"So that's it? We just walk away and never talk again? That's not fair!" Robin fought.

Y/N turned around a defeated look on her face. "I don't care. I need to be done."

Robin scoffed, she couldn't believe Y/N was going to throw away their friendship over something Robin couldn't control. Y/N was determined, and she wasn't going to change her mind.

"Fine, have a nice life," Robin spat as she walked out the door. Y/N closed her eyes as the door slammed, the sound ringing in her ears.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. It was going to be hell getting over her but it was possible. And she knew she'd be okay in the end.

[illgiveyouahint]

oh man our queer festival revealed their program for this year and honestly there's nothing that interests me and films that i hoped will be there are not

[kisses4reid]

scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)

synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.

genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff

warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness

w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.

a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)

The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.

Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.

Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.

He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.

Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.

And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?

You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.

And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.

“Are you okay?”

You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”

His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.

It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.

He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”

You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.

Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.

“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”

Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.

You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.

“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.

“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.

“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”

Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“

You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”

“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”

“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend. Ugh.

You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”

He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”

You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.

“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.

“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”

You’re overreacting.

That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.

Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.

The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.

Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.

But… what if?

There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.

“You okay?”

“Um…”

You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”

You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.

“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”

He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.

Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.

“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”

You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.

My man, you thought with a smile.

My man, you shivered.

“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,

“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.

“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.

God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.

“Yeah, just feeling-“

“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”

It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.

It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.

But I’m overreacting.

“It’s nothing.”

Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.

You heard his sigh.

“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”

You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,

“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“

“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.

His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.

Spencer gulped, “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,

“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“

“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“

“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“

“Wait so-”

You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.

“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.

He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.

The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.

You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.

You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.

It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.

He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.

You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.

You couldn’t hide anything from him.

“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”

Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.

“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean…” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.

I just hope it’s not with him.

He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”

“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.

Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.

No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’

No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.

You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.

You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”

taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner

[hayatoseyepatch]

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∘∙⊱Description: Who would our little less experienced characters go to for help in pleasing their partner?

∘∙⊱Featuring:  Haruka Sakura, Jo Togame, Kyotaro Sugishita, Hajime Umemiya, Akihiko Nirei, Hayato Suo x fem!reader

∘∙⊱Words: 2.7k (I might have gotten a wee bit carried away, oops)

∘∙⊱Tags: fem!reader, minor spoiler warning for the manga (nothing too specific mentioned), aged up, smut, threesome, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, petnames, praising, degradation, dacryphilia, oral (m&f receiving), etc.

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a/n: Please be gentle with me I haven’t written anything proper in like 2 years lmao. But I’m currently obsessed with windbreaker and figured I’d take matters into my own hands for creating some content for these boys. Enjoy some spicy headcannons! You know the drill, 18+ content MDNI.

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-Sakura is a damn mess. I love this boy so much but he is. Because lets be honest, even getting together with Sakura was a project. This poor baby never even had someone show him friendship let alone love.

-(Slight Manga Spoilers) Sakura has gone to Togame for help before when it came to  the battle with Noroshi, and Togame has proven himself to be someone Sakura can rely on. Sakura treats everything like a fight, this is no different.

-Togame, in comparison, had much more experience. Being in Shishitoren was a lot on Togame before he met Sakura, so he had his fair share of sexual partners to relieve some stress.

-Sakura was new to relying on others, and even newer to asking for help. His face a bright red and a deep furrow in his brows. Togame took one look at his expression, eyebrows raising in curiosity. “What’s up Sakura, you good?” He had asked lazy crooked smile in place, tough he’d be lying if he wasn’t a bit concerned.

-Sakura’s scowl only deepened in response. “I need your help with something.” When Togame had urged him to go on, between clenched teeth he had asked him to help him pleasing his partner.

-To say Togame was shocked would be an understatement. Sakura’s furrow in his brow deepened. “Listen, I know your much more experienced than I am, I just.. I want to make sure she feels good too. But I fucking swear one smart ass comment and I’ll beat your ass into next week. You got it?” Togame’s eyes softened he knew how Sakura was, how hard it was for him to ask for help. He must really care for you. He agreed without a second thought.

-It wasn’t long before he found himself in your shared bedroom. His eyes wide at your form clad in nothing but a cute matching set the both of your cheeks adorned with the same bright red hue. He had to remind himself why he was here. He was here to help his friend, but gods were you so damn beautiful.

You felt so exposed, tears collecting on your lashes, as Togame has you spread open for Sakura. Your back resting against Togame’s chest, your thighs hooked over his, fully exposing your dripping center to Sakura’s hungry gaze. Togame’s long fingers drawing lazy circles over your needy clit. Your essence was dripping from your opening onto the sheets below, it had felt like Togame had been teasing your for hours, mind already swimming and neither of them had even filled your cunt. Togame’s other hand gently thumbing at your nipple, had you wiggling desperately in his grasp.

“See, Sakura, you need to take your time. You see how much of a mess her pretty pussy is making?” He chuckles, deep and breathy, right into your ear. “All that wetness is gonna make it feel so much better for the both of you. Plus just see for yourself how sexy it sounds”

Sakura felt like he was going to explode, his cheeks radiating warmth with how red they were, his cock straining against his pants, aching for attention.  All Sakura could do is nod eyes locked on your dripping cunt. “Go ahead Sakura, slowly slip two fingers inside, that’s it, see how easy it is?” he grins at the look on Sakura’s face at the squelching sound your cunt makes, coupled with the sound that falls from your lips at the feeling of his fingers stretching your once empty cunt. “sh-shut the fuck up I know how to put my fingers inside, asshole” Sakura grumbles, but he couldn’t deny Togame was right, they’ve never slipped in with such ease before.

Togame chuckles once more. “Oh she’s so responsive, how adorable~” Sakura’s eyes are wide, he’s never heard you make that sound before, he quickly gets drunk on your reactions, fingers gliding in and out of your cunt with ease with how wet you were. Togame continues to guide Sakura, telling him just how to position his fingers in such a way that he is repeatedly hitting the spot deep inside you that has your vision going white.

“Oh! H-Haruka, right there, please please I’m gonna~” You cry out, embarrassed at how loud your volume had gotten as you beg for release. Togame finally picks up speed, his fingers no longer drawing lazy patterns but circling your clit faster now. “That’s it doll, don’t hold back, show Sakura how good he’s making you feel.” Sakura watches intently, mesmerized, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers body trembling as he and Togame’s fingers guide you through your orgasm. Sakura surging forward, lips claiming yours hungrily, swallowing your moans. Coming down from you high, breaths panting as you try and calm your racing heart and trembling thighs.

“Alright Sugar, I think your ready for the main event.” Both you and Sakura’s eyes widen at Togame’s words, you were both in for a long night.

Umemiya & Sugishita

-Let’s be honest here, Sugishita is trusting NO ONE other than Umemiya. He hold so much respect for him and I feel like if he’s going to anyone its him.

-I feel like his partner also spends plenty of time with Umemiya, so it wouldn’t be a stranger who is being invited into their bedroom. A good bit of Sugishita’s time is spent helping Umemiya in the garden or with meetings, so its safe to say that his partner spends a good bit of their time on the rooftop with them.

-Sugishita also knows that Umemiya will be gentle and not push any boundaries that  him or his partner are uncomfortable with. He finds some relief knowing Umemiya isn’t going to go all sadistic on his partner.

-That being said Sugishita is still so nervous to ask for help. He’s worried in some way he’d be disappointed in him for not being able to fulfill his partners needs. Umemiya is so caught off-guard when he asks too, Sugishita rarely ever asks for help so as the leader and viewing Furin’s members as his siblings of course he’s happy to help! Though Sugishita’s next words were ones he couldn’t have guessed even if he tried.

-When the time comes, and the three of you are in the comfort of your bed, they dwarf your frame. These boys are BIG, Sugishita is 6’3” and Umemiya is 6’2” so honeybun I’m praying for you for real.

-Umemiya is so patient, his gentle words guiding both of your actions, he is fully in hold of the reins. He has the both of you hanging on to his every word.

“That’s it Sugishita, be gentle, ease into her. She how much easier it slides in after warming her up?” Umemiya’s voice is tender, guiding Sugishita’s actions and easing your mind. His deep baritone spoken directly in your ear has you letting out shudder. Sugishita lets out a deep groan, you were always tight, normally struggling to take his girth. But your velvet walls pulled him in the wetness from the last hour Umemiya spent between your thighs making him slide in with ease.

“So.. fucking.. tight” Sugishita grunts, heeding his mentor’s word, resisting the urge to slam into you desperate to feel more of you. You whimper at the stretch, Umemiya titling your chin upwards, lips meeting your own. His tongue exploring your mouth, large hands roaming your body. One hand circles a sensitive nipple, the other has his fingers tracing mindless shapes on your clit. Effectively distracting you from the stretch of Sugishita entering your tight heat. The both of you moan loudly as Sugishita bottoms out, feeling filled to the brim and he hadnt even gotten started. “That’s it, give her a moment, let her get accustomed. Its okay sweetheart, poor little thing your tight little pussy is so full isn’t it baby?” The gentle tone of Umemiya’s voice contradicts the absolute filth that leaves his mouth. His words having you wiggling your hips desperate for more. “Please, Kyo, more.. please fuck me”

Umemiya grins, the desperate tone in your voice has his own cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. “Go on Sugishita, she asked so nicely, are you gonna make her beg?” He teases, having both of your cheeks flushing pink, as Sugishia begins to move. His hips rutting into yours,  your head being tossed back, resting on Umemiya’s shoulder. “Please.. please.. touch me Ume” You beg, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears in your desperation.

The older man grins, lips attaching themselves to your neck, his fingers resuming their ministrations on your sensitive spots. Letting out a deep growl, Sugishita picks up the pace hips slamming into your own. “You see that Sugishita, you see how deep you are inside her?” He teases, pointing out the bulge in your tummy where he can practically see just how deep he was thrusting inside you. He gritted his teeth willing himself not to cum, not yet. Not when you felt so good, not when you were making such beautiful sounds.

Your hand reaches behind you, slipping inside Umemiya’s boxers, your small hand wrapping around his cock, giving an experimental tug not wanting to leave him out. He curses into your neck. His hips thrusting into you hand as you begin pumping his length in your hand. Sugishita couldn’t take it anymore, you felt too good, your sounds doing too much to him. You too were on the edge. “Kyo, Kyo, please gonna..” You come undone with a cry, Sugishita matching your actions, spilling himself into your waiting cunt. After catching your breath, you and Sugshita have a silent conversation with your eyes, his response being an approving nod and a grunt, as you turn your half lidded gaze up to Umemiya.

“Ume.. please fuck me.. wanna make you feel good too.” The white haired male’s eyes widening at your forwardness, but as he said to Sugishita earlier, he wasn’t going to make you beg when you asked so nicely.

-See these two here… I think this arrangement is a bit different from the others. Unlike Sakura & Sugishita, it isn't Nirei going to Suo for help for his partner, but rather Suo helping Nirei get some experience under his belt.

-Suo is already training Nirei, taking him under his wing to show him how to defend himself, to him this was just another lesson for him to give the blonde.

-Nirei was confused when Suo had texted him telling him to meet him at his apartment rather than their usual meeting spot for training. Regardless, he followed instruction, curious as to where Suo lived. After all these years of knowing him, he still only knew what Suo let him know about him he was a mystery to him.

-He met Nirei at the door his signature closed eye smile adorning his face, laced with mischief, as he led him inside. “y/n isnt here, Suo?” Nirei had asked curiously, also with a twinge of nervousness.

-Suo was extremely perceptive, he noticed the cherry red that dusted Nirei’s cheeks whenever you greeted him or made idle chatter. How could he not? You were breathtaking after all. So Suo would throw one of his closest friends a bone. Tilting his head with a smile. “Oh no, she’s here, just in the bedroom waiting for our lesson.”

-Nirei didnt know what he was expecting when he followed Suo into their bedroom, but he nearly fainted seeing you sat on the bed waiting patiently in nothing but your bra and panties. Before he could profusely apologize for catching you in such a state of undress and run, his friend had placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Today’s lesson is going to be a bit different, today me and y/n are going to be teaching you about inflicting pleasure rather than pain.”

-The nervous blonde thought his heart might just beat right out of his chest, was this a cruel prank from you both? Had Suo caught him staring at you and decided to give him a humiliating punishment?

-He would be a liar if he said he hadn’t imagined being with you before. If he hadn’t spent late nights fucking his fist, imagining it was you touching him instead. If he didn’t whimper your name in his pillow as he came.

-But when your big doe eyes met his, a delicate hand reached out to welcome him into the bed with a comforting nod of your head offering your consent, who was he to say no?

“He’s awfully eager isn’t he darling? Oops it seems like your mouths a bit full, how silly of me~” Suo chuckled, tone in his voice teasing, as he stuffed your mouth full of his cock. His eye softening as he looked down at you, fingers carding gently before tugging just the way he knew you liked, forcing more of his cock down your throat.

Your moans sent vibrations around Suo’s cock, he was right, Nirei was surely eager. His tongue lapping at your pussy like a man starved. His inexperienced tongue was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Suo needing to remind him to take breaths. Said man, chuckled once more, teasing voice filling the room.

“Nirei, she isn’t going anywhere we’re just getting started, make sure your focusing on her clit, that’s a boy just like, fuck, just like that.” The tail end of his sentence he wasn’t sure which of you it was directed at, the way you bobbed your head taking him expertly in your throat had the normally composed man losing his bearings. Using his grip on your hair he lifted you off his length.

“Come here.” He instructs the blonde, who reluctantly removed his face from its position buried between your thighs. You beckon Nirei to you with your hand in his, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss. Tongue quickly overtaking his own, allowing him to taste Suo on his tongue, a stark reminder of who you belonged to. This seemed to please your boyfriend, enough for him to slot himself between your legs. His cock sliding in with ease due to the wetness from Nirei’s saliva and your own arousal.

You moan, desperately into Nieri’s mouth, head being tossed back at the feeling of Suo’s cock filling you so deeply. His groan making both if you shudder. No time is wasted, you were quick to replace the empty feeling in your mouth with the blonde’s cock. He let out a loud desperate moan as the warmth of your mouth welcomes him in, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck. Suo sets a brutal pace from the beginning, determined to have all three of you coming undone at the same time.

You and Nirei’s moans and whimpers bounce off the walls, leaving no question of who was solely in control of you both in this moment. Suo felt the familiar spasm of your walls around him, indicating your impending release. “That’s it my love, come on, let go for me. Show Nirei how beautiful you look coming undone on my cock.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t close, the stimulation of your earlier ministrations bringing him to the edge faster than he normally would. Nirei is the first of you to come, a loud cry falling from his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks as he unloads into your waiting mouth. Nearly coming a second time just from the sight of you swallowing his cum, just so you would be able to cry out Suo’s name as you came on his cock. Suo was the last to topple over the ledge, your orgasm triggering his own. Hands gripping your plush hips in an iron grip as he paints your walls white. The room is silent save for the sounds of panting, all three of you catching your breaths from such intense releases. Suo’s voice is the first to break the silence.

“Alright Nirei, go on, if you clean her up real nice with your tongue I might just let you fuck her pretty cunt after.~”

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Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and as always likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. This is my first time writing for these characters so I hope I did them some justice. See you in the next one!

[tac-the-unseen]

Could you write slashers with a s/o who’s an artist? You can do with all/any you want but I would specifically like maybe the Sinclairs, Billy Lenz, Brahms and maybe Pinhead?

Slashers x Artist Reader + Pinhead

Micheal Myers:

•Pretends not to care, but he's an artist at heart

•If you sculpt or blind things he will insist on watching you over your shoulders

•Will steal supplies for you whether you ask or not

•if you Draw or paint, it's going on the fridge or wall

•He truly admires your work

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•Billy and Stu really just lets you do your thing

•Stu suggest glitter no matter the work or meaning

•Billy Suggests You make a lot of gore pieces

•Both of them will go the extra mile to kill models for you, so you have a subject

•Both Jokingly propose to model nude for you

Thomas Hewitt:

•Loves it when you proudly show him your art

•if you draw/paint on paper, He'll build custom frames So he can hang it up

•If you paint on a canvas, He'll make you canvases so you can make more art

•If you sculpt/Make pottery He'll make a display case for your work

•He's very proudly flaunts it to the family

Bubba Sawyer:

•Shows you his Bone art

•Wants to make art with you

•No matter what you do, He wants to join

•Will be as happy as can be if you make crafts with him or use his supply of bones in your art

Bo Sinclair:

•His Brain immediately connects you to Vincent

•He subconsciously starts treating you like his brother, no matter your relationship with him

•When he goes to other town he grabs you and his brother some supplies

•kinda just plops you down with Vincent and expects you to to get along, especially if you sculpt

•That's about as nice as he can get

Vincent Sinclair:

•He's excited to have somebody who understands

•Will silently sit next to you well both of you work on your craft

•Feels oddly comforting to him

•His family has always been connected by art, even though they're not great people. So having you make art with him solidifies your position as family to him

•shows you his technique with wax working, and wants to teach you how to sculpt with wax

Lester Sinclair:

•pt. 3 of familial bond

•because he didn't receive much attention as a kid, He desperately tried to be an artist to gain favor of his mother

•It didn't click with him the way it clicked with Vincent so he was shoved aside for “real artists”

•If you sit down and make art with him, he will cry

•constantly seeking your validation and praise

•holds your art very dear

Billy Lenz:

•Yet another creature looking over your shoulder

•He's fascinated by your ability to create

•You have hands And he has hands, yet your creations are always different than his

•He's a little jealous

•demands you teach him how to be better

•If you already don't know he'll show you how to crochet in return

Brahms Heelshire:

•In All his time locked away He has had plenty to make art

•He focus on the more classical sides of painting and traditional drawing

•He makes stunning portraits, So if you have a different art style it confuses him

•He's lived his life very sheltered so at first he might not even consider it art

•He later learns how much time and care you put into these works and starts to appreciate your dedication

•He also steals some of them to put up in his room

Hannibal Lecter:

•Very excited

•Starts showing off his own private art collection

•Takes it upon himself to teach you “proper technique”

•Gives you random history lessons on your choice of art form

•buys you very expensive supplies

Will Graham:

•Okay dude

•Doesn’t really care

•Just happy that you're happy

•Secretly admires your work when you are away

•Always make sure your work is safe and undamaged

The Lost Boys:

•Marko is immediately grinning ear to ear

•David pretends not to care

•Dwayne silently watches you

•Paul is all up in your personal space while you work

•No matter what you make or how proud of it you are, It's going in the horde pile with all their other treasures

•Paul and Marko asking you to draw them all the time

•If you do it's being hung up on the wall

Pinhead:

•Another artist in his own way

•He prefers body modification and rigging as his art form

•Will creepy watch you work from a distance

•He’ll give you polite criticism from time to time

•Seeing you so focused and dedicated makes him think of all the other past artists he's met

•Decides fairly quickly that you are his favorite

Thanks for reading <3

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Losing Game

♡ featuring: ajax x f!reader

♡ summary: simmering feelings boil over as you're confronted by the man you hate the most; tartaglia, your boss. wc: 3.1k+

♡ cw/tw: afab, degradation, humiliation, creampie, squirting, light choking, sadism, throat-fucking, cum play, fingering, overstimulation, brat taming, mind break, pet names (doll, baby)

notes: hiii, the positive response from the last one motivated me to get this done just in time for Fontaine. kinda long this time so sorry abt that. ajax my beloved <3 art by sonomi_rap5 on twitter comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Working for the fatui wasn’t easy in the slightest, especially when you aren’t on harbinger status. You were sent on long, grueling tasks only to be met with loose interpretations of gratitude and sometimes silence from the higher-ups, in which most wouldn’t even glance in your direction. Pleasant beginnings became a sour afterthought, and your perception of the fatui changed drastically. Your grievances, however, weren’t helped by your quick-witted snappy attitude and competitiveness; Presumably why you ended up under the division of Tartaglia. You assumed a binding contract from the capricious redhead wouldn’t mean much, but that was quickly proven false.  

You'd rather climb every mountain in Snezhnaya than spend a minute talking to that airhead. He was instructed to keep a watchful eye on you during missions despite the competence you demonstrated. It was insulting. Anything he did you could do better. It’d been proven multiple times from the petty challenges you created. How much water you could drink, how long you can stay up. You won every time. How could you not hate him? His feigned ignorance and careless flirtations were enough to drive you mad. “Please, call me Ajax” he’d say, winking. The simpering smile he gave you after every comeback shot daggers in your pride. What made you particularly furious was the incessant drum of your heart whenever he was near you. The warm autumn morning that was his hair. The cool still waves his eyes sent to your core. You couldn’t fall for him, or else he’d have one up on you. You had to be stronger than that. You quelled your stress in a tattered journal gifted years ago. 

“Hey, comrade!” His bubbly tone makes knots in your stomach, and you choose to stay silent. You’re hoping this mission will go without a hitch, as long as he doesn’t get in your way. Ajax lets out a teasing whistle. 

“Yeesh, tough crowd.” As you’re collecting the items needed for the deal, he rocks back and forth on his heels directly in front of you, absent-mindedly watching. 

You whip your head to face him, “You can’t see I’m doing something right now?” 

“Oh, I see what you’re doing. But this isn’t entertaining.” 

“Unlike you, your majesty, I have no choice but to be perfect. I apologize if that’s not exciting enough for you.” You retort with sarcastic curtsy.  

“Haha! You’re always a pleasure to be around, (Y/N). My faithful, kind-hearted companion.” he said with a taunting wink. You're beyond flustered, haphazardly stuffing the remains in your bag and lugging it over your shoulder. 

“Let's go.” You say lazily. He follows closely, arms crossed behind his head. “Calling me like a dog, how romantic.” 

“If you don’t want to be called like a dog stop acting like one.” 

“You could at least give me a treat if I'm gonna be your dog.” He looks at you, making his best impression of puppy-eyes. You bite back a few choice words, and glare at him instead. He isn’t fazed by this and flashes a beguiling smile that makes your ears warm. Glancing at the weight you’re shouldering, he comments, “You sure you don’t need any help with that?” 

“No. The last person I need help from is you.” 

You and Ajax regroup in an alleyway deep in Fontaine’s bustling city. You are assigned to retrieve a rare gem for one of Pantalone’s elaborate schemes, and you quickly prepare yourself for this interaction. Ajax studies you, leaning against one of the walls. 

“Can’t you be a little nicer to your superior? If it wasn’t for me, you’d be in a lot of trouble half the time. You’re welcome.” You scoff. “I don’t know why you’re here in the first place, I have no problem doing this on my own.” 

“I’m sure. Don’t mind me, Ms. Independent.” A sly smirk crawled up his face. “Fucking asshole” you mumble under your breath. “I didn’t catch that. Can you repeat it?” 

“I said you’re a fucking asshole.” After a few moments of silence, Ajax grips his chest in feigned agony. “Ouch. I’m gutted!” 

Just as you're about to leave, he snatches your wrist, now only mere inches away from your face. His hand gently brushes away the strays of hair on your forehead. “There you go, doll. Gotta be perfect for your debut.” A whirlwind of emotions strangles your ability to think clearly, you pull your wrist away and start speed walking, attempting to gather yourself before you get to the jewelry store. 

You enter the empty store and are immediately confronted by the jeweler. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am. Do you have an appointment?” You proclaim your business and appointment under a fake identity, posturing yourself as wealthy. “May I see identification please.” Of course, you say. As you’re looking through your purse you notice something: there’s no identification here. Surely you weren’t that negligent over something so simple. You rummaged through the other compartments, trying to stay calm in front of an increasingly concerned jeweler. But it’s not there. How is this possible. Your nerves are heightened and the anxiety of failing the mission starts to creep in. “I made an appointment with Lottie; she’ll be able to provide reference. I believe I left my passport at home.” The jeweler seems slightly disappointed. “Unfortunately, ma’am, I am not allowed to present any gems without identification.” Your heart beats faster. “Well, sir, I’m very busy and I’m afraid this is my only chance to close on this item. You wouldn’t want to push away a well-paying customer.” 

“I have no choice in the matter. If you have no proof of identification, I must ask you to leave.” Should I take it by force? You thought, thinking about the next possible option. As you’re about to handle the rest physically, the door swings open. Ajax comes up to you, placing his arm around your waist.  

“My love, were you able to get the gem we were discussing?” You’re annoyed, but you improvise and look at him as if he’s the love of your life. “Not yet, dear.” Suddenly, he places a plush kiss on your lips. You’re stunned and speechless, filled with anger and wanting. 

The jeweler interjects. “And are you the husband? Would you happen to have any identification.” 

“Yes, sir.” Ajax pulls out a passport and fake birth certificate unbeknownst to you and begins to close the deal. The rest of the meeting you sit speechless. 

“Thank you for your patronage.” are the last words you hear as you leave the store, Ajax guiding you with his hand. You’re silent the whole way back to your room. 

You turn your bag upside down and begin looking for the mismatched documents. All while Ajax stares at you expectingly. You ignore his presence.  

“So... how about a ‘you’re welcome?’” 

“For what.” 

He lets out a mocking laugh. “For what? I don’t know, maybe saving your ass back there? You froze, and you were unprepared, Ms. Independent.”  

“I wouldn’t have forgotten it if it wasn’t for the obnoxious bullshit you did this morning.” 

“That’s dishonest, I wasn’t even talking!” he pretends to be hurt. “Admit that you need me.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“No.” His light-hearted inflection vexes you and makes it hard for you to focus as you read through the mountains of pages in your folder. 

While your head is down, Ajax comes across the tattered notebook just peeking out from under the bed. Storing the months—no years—of feelings you had regarding the fatui. Regarding him. Some time passes and you finally raise your head, met with the horrifying reveal of him skimming through the journal, mischief coating the deep void in his eyes. You spring up and reach for the book but he’s faster, grabbing your arms and pinning them above your head. 

“This is really good stuff... really good.” You shout profanities over and over, anything to get his attention away from the book. But he continues to read as if you’re not there. When he’s done reading, he lets you go, and you instantly try to swing at him. Before you can land a hit, he grabs you by the throat and stares into your soul, almost as if he’s trying to swallow your being. 

“You’ve been acting like a little fucking brat all over a crush? Not very big girl of you.” 

“I know you think you’re beyond charming, but I promise you don’t have that effect on me.” 

“Really? Let’s play a game then.” He knew you’d accept just to beat him at anything. 

“If you don’t cum by the end of this journal, I’ll apologize for everything. I’ll do whatever you want. But if I win-” he steps closer to you, “You have to do everything I say.” 

You almost burst out laughing. Such an easy challenge, how hard could it be? 

You're panting, trying your hardest to focus on the words that seemed to melt off the page. Your back lays comfortably against his chest, with his legs keeping yours spread. 

“Next page, baby.” 

“Don’t call me that.” Your words are lenient and breathy. Your underwear is still on, but Ajax’s fingers are covered in your slick, playing with the erect nub just enough to make you fuzzy. “You look like you’re tapping out.” 

“This? This is nothing” You respond meekly, continuing the reading.  

“I can’t help but have fe-elings for himph.”  

“There’s some nice things about me in here, why aren’t you always like this?” He says, circling and dipping into your gushy folds, smearing the glossy mess all over your vulva. You try so hard to read the letters, squirming from his touch. The sensation pulsing from your clit to your brain made you incoherent; the more you move, the more he moves. The contents of the journal are humiliating, detailing your romantic and sexual attraction towards Ajax, and your attempts to stifle these feelings. He was getting a kick out of seeing your flustered face stammer over his appearance. He plays with the precum glazing his fingers, widening them to watch the trail it left. Only two more pages left. 

“I-I-” You couldn’t get through the first sentence on the last page. Your thighs are trembling, and your pussy began to twitch. “Uh, s-shit. Ajax, wai-.” He trails his fingers over your clit spelling his name, then pushes two inside, fighting back an amused grin. “You’re almost done” Teasing in your ear. You bite back the moans threatening to escape; at the very least you couldn’t give him that satisfaction. He watches you fall apart, shaking more aggressively before your body gives in and you cum on his fingers.  

“Uh oh, that’s unfortunate.” You try your best to catch your breath, but he rides out your orgasm, making you subconsciously grind yourself into his palm. Then you’re struck with the reality of losing. He licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling back from the taste. “So fucking good, does being a bitch make you taste better?” You were too embarrassed from the loss to retort. “You won.” 

“I did.” He lifts you off the bed and onto the floor, your legs still recovering. He hikes your shirt up, trailing kisses up your stomach until he gets to your nipples. He flicks and sucks one while kneading the other one, occasionally biting the slightly bruising flesh. “Not gonna moan for me, huh baby?” 

“Not in the slightest.” You rasped. He smiles and blows cool air on your tits, sending a rippling feeling down your back. “That’s okay, you’ll give in.” 

Ajax unbuttons his pants, and they drop in front of you. Unsheathing his thick throbbing length, drooling with desire. His balls are full and heavy, and as you look up at him his eyes are clouded with lust. The pretty freckles that dotted his arms and chest are much more visible now, and so are his battle scars. He breathed in deep, "take care of this for me, yeah?” You wanted to say no and say fuck this; but there was another side that wanted him desperately, that needed this.  

You force your jaw open to accommodate his size and push yourself halfway on his girth, feeling his cockhead hit the back of your throat. Once you feel like you got it in, you slobber all over his cock, dampening his balls and begin to bob your head. You stroke with one hand and massage his sack with the other, leading to a breathy whimper from him. “Ah fuck, feels good. Suck it slow, slut.” You begin to move faster while cupping his balls, obscene noises leaving your sopping mouth. You have tears running down your sweating face trying to keep up with the vigorous movement of your tongue. You feel him throb a few times, his moans and grunting getting progressively louder.  

“Need more” is all he says, putting one of his legs on the bed and grabbing both sides of your head. Before you can register what’s happening. Ajax pushes your head onto his cock until your nose reaches his pubes. He lets out a breathy sigh and starts throat fucking you with an animalistic grip. The gagging and spit noises echo off the walls, along with his continuous whimpering. You wanted to hate him, but your blood was buzzing, and your panties were drenched. “Shut up and take it” followed by broken fuck’s and yes’s. He threw his head back, hair slicked and torso gleaming with sweat, “look at me.” You reluctantly look up, addicted to his passionate expression. “I want you looking at me when I cum.” You grip his thighs, and he twitches a few times before spurting white, thick cum down your throat. He pulls out slightly to drag his semen over your lips and then taps it on your face, holding you in place.  

“What are you doing? Clean me up.” he husked. You clean him up without complaint and lick your lips, forced to maintain eye contact with him the entire way.  

In one swoop, Ajax picks you up and throws you on the bed, eager to get your underwear off. “You proved your point, stop being an ass" you slurred out. The room was intoxicating, all you could smell and feel was him. He takes your panties off, spreading your pussy to watch the slippery puddle dribble down your thighs. He shoves your panties in your mouth, “Fucking liar, I know you like it. Can’t taste how wet you are?” He aligns himself with your aching hole, keeping your arch steady with you bent over. Shoving his cock in, moaning from the feeling of your body perfectly molding for him. Ajax starts moving at a rapid pace quickly, his big slender hands tightly gripping your ass. The sound of wet sticky skin slapping together and the squelching from your core made you shudder. It was all too much; you have been teetering on an orgasm since you went down on him, and the way his balls thump your clit make you quiver.  

“Whiny brat. Just needed to be fucked good to shut up, yeah?” he groaned through his words. Tears were coming down your eyes now, you can’t tell if he’s edging you by accident or on purpose. But right now, you’d do anything. He turns your head to face him, gazing at your tear-stricken face. “Aww, you cryin’ for me?” He stops to kiss and lick your tears, delighted by your tenderness. Taking the panties out your mouth, he brings your body flush with his and continues to pump inside with you looking at him.  

“So sweet all of a sudden, where’d that attitude go?” The morals you had for moaning went missing and mewls and soft whimpers began to leave you. “Let it out, baby.” You’re suddenly babbling please’s begging for him to let you have it. “Pathetic, can’t even get off on your own. You need me that bad?” You nod repeatedly, dangerously close to your release. He had a dark look in his eyes and a sinful smirk. “Yeah? Okay, you’ve been so good.” He reaches down and starts to rub your clit ceaselessly, kissing your cheek. Your whimpers become loud shaky moans and he finally lets you have it, shockwaves going through your body as you’re dissolved into pleasure. You pulsate through the explosion, jello-brain and boneless as your cum leaks down his thighs. Just as he pulls out and flips you over. You’re dizzy and drunk off him, legs shaking indefinitely from the intensity. Then he puts it back in. “You can take one more, yeah baby?” Your overstimulated and violent shaking wasn’t enough for him to stop. He wanted you ruined. He keeps going, grabbing your face to kiss you deeply, tongues intertwining with each other. He feeds you deep strokes, tip prodding your spot every time and watching as your tits bounce. You throw your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. You have no thoughts, only his name rings in your head. You can feel the coil inside you winding up, pleasure beyond the searing pain of your swollen pussy. He looks down at you and smiles.  

“Look at me." You can’t hear anything at this point, not even the sound of your own voice. So, it’s a pleasant surprise when your voice carries his name, “Ajax, Ajax”, chanting as if he’s your god. “Fuck. Gonna cum. Let it out. baby” he says grinning. You’re clamping him so tight and throbbing until you ultimately shatter with him, releasing a stream of squirt onto him and the sheets. He bucks into you, letting out thick spurts, panting heavily as he watches you in disarray. You instinctively hold on to his arms, trembling uncontrollably as you try to search for breath and ride it out. You’re completely hysterical and sobbing from the emotion it ripped into you. You were in shambles and Ajax couldn’t help but smile out of happiness for what he caused. “I’m so sorry.” you say repeatedly, eyes shut and lined with tears. He got closer to wrap you in his arms, and you cling to him for stability. “It’s okay, I’m here for you.” 

You didn’t want to talk about it when you woke up. You were hoping he’d be gone, and therefore wouldn’t have to deal with the humiliation. But there he was, watching you sleep just as the sun rose. His ginger hair danced with golden flecks of light, and he looked at you like you were the only person on Teyvat. 

“Creep.” 

  “Good morning to you too, baby~.” 

[toournextadventure]

when you love it pt.2

Summary: Learning to accept yourself again is a hard task. Thankfully, you've got two lovely Outcasts to help you

Word Count: 5.4k Warnings: swearing, talk of blood, typical vampire violence Pairing: Wenclair x Reader (part 1) A/N: Surprise, this is not the last part, there will be one more. So sorry but... it gets better

“Have you ever eaten somebody?”

Ah, there they were. The Little Bane of your existence, as you had come to endearingly call them over the last few months. A menace at best, the little wolf had, for some unknown reason, made it a point to attach themself to your hip. Even on the full moon, the pup would sniff you out and remain with you until they turned back into the headache they truly were.

Admirable.

“Why do you ask?” You asked without looking down to meet their eyes. The eyes of an Addams, you thought.

“Mother said people go insane after eating human flesh,” the child said. “I’m trying to collect evidence to prove her wrong.”

The question was pure Addams.

“I believe it’s only if they eat the brain matter of a human,” you said, finally looking down.

“So you have then?” They asked. “Eaten someone?”

“What do you think?” You asked.

Their head tilted just like Enid's as they thought of an answer. After all this time, you were still finding more and more similarities between them and their mothers. It was almost comical. The toothy grin, the troublesome look in their eyes. A perfect mix of two perfect women.

“No,” they finally said. “I don’t think you have.”

You smiled, showing your fangs. “Correct.”

You both looked back out toward the scenery in front of the cabin. Winter was always the most beautiful time, if anyone asked your opinion. The snow coated the trees in the finest powder, creating an almost constant appearance of fresh snowfall. To the back of the cabin was a lake that froze over so thoroughly, you could skate for hours and never fall through.

Though falling through was always an adventure of its own, you would admit.

Perhaps you could get Enid to skate with you again. Oh, wouldn’t that be grand? It had been ages since you had last danced together upon the shimmering ice. The amount of trust that came with such an act… would you be able to skate as before? Could she put her life in your hands once again?

You deflated; you wouldn’t blame her if she couldn’t.

“Have you ever had blood from someone you know?”

Each cell in your dead body froze.

Teeth ripping through flesh. You could hear the blood pumping from the wounds, pouring out over your hands as you tried desperately to stop the flow. Your own blood cascaded down your throat, erasing any satisfaction you had previously received.

You could still smell the blood. It made your mouth water.

You still wanted more.

“What do you think?” You asked, looking back down at them.

They didn’t look away in contemplation. No, they kept their eyes locked with yours. It was uncomfortable. They had Wednesday’s stunning brown eyes. Eyes you had stared into night after night before watching the light slowly fade from one mistake. Just one.

“Yes,” they said.

“Aunt Yoko’s here!” One of the other children yelled from the house.

You looked back out to the scenery before your Little Bane ran off to join the others.

“Correct,” you mumbled with a sigh.

No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t forget the feel of her blood falling down your throat. The heat that pooled in your chest and had your dead heart wishing to beat. Each inch of scar tissue embedded in your skin ached at the memory. She’s just inside, your Instincts whispered. Just a sip.

Your lip caught on your fang as you snarled at the thought. An animalistic sound; pathetic. But the sound made you feel as if you could quiet the Instincts. You would not drink from her again. Had it learned nothing from the last time? There was blood in the fridge, you would survive just fine.

Heavy footsteps came up behind you.

“Aunt Yoko wants to speak with you,” your Little Bane said.

You exhaled slowly and nodded to yourself. Of course she would. She had never truly been your biggest fan. Vampires don’t trust other vampires, she had said, if you remembered correctly. Which you did. Her Instincts may have dulled over the generations, but her intelligence remained as sharp as ever.

“Lead the way,” you said.

Your Little Bane’s lip caught on their canine, so reminiscent of Enid you wanted to laugh. At times, the child was pure Addams. Every cell of their being practically screamed it. Yet, at moments like this, you were reminded that Enid was also an Addams in her own right. And that child, though outwardly appearing as Wednesday, was Enid’s little copy.

In the past, Yoko Tanaka had never intimidated you. After all, why would she? Her family had gone soft, adamantly refusing to drink from a source regardless of its humanity; or lack thereof. There had been a few instances during your college years where she had debated your own family beliefs, questioning the primality of it all. And it was, you wouldn’t deny it. Drinking from the source was what your ancestors had done, and the Instinct continued to flow through your veins whether you liked it or not.

You had silently agreed with her, though you would never let her know.

Now, however? After what Enid had jokingly titled The Beatdown - which neither you nor Wednesday found very humorous, but if that was how she coped then who were you to deny her such a trivial thing - Yoko terrified you. And given how she was looking at you as you walked closer…

She was aware of it.

“Tanaka,” you said with a polite nod and smile.

Her arms crossed tighter over her chest.

“In the car, pup,” she said in a tone that contradicted her body language.

“Aunt Div is in my spot,” they said without hesitation.

The immediate change in Yoko’s body was comical. She turned to look into the car where Divina - with whom you shared no ill will, though you knew it was no mutual feeling - was sitting in the front passenger seat. Her head was facing the back of the car where she was, supposedly, talking with the other Addams children.

Yoko rapped her knuckles against the window. “You’re being displaced, babe,” she called out.

Divina’s shoulders slumped, but she promptly unbuckled her sit and got out of the car. The look she gave you was anything but polite as she slid into the middle seat, pushing one of the children into the back. They were all laughing and smiling; truly Enid’s children.

“Good luck,” your Little Bane said to you.

“Thank you,” you mumbled back as they climbed into the car and shut the door, leaving you alone with Yoko.

How enjoyably torturous.

“Hello, Tanaka-”

“-Cut the bullshit,” she interrupted. Straight to the point as always. “No one wants you around them.” Her finger jabbed into your chest. “No one trusts you around them.”

“I understand,” you said.

“No, I don’t think you do.”

A wet gasp-

-snarling-

-relief-

-pain-

“I very much do,” you mumbled.

“I should rip your heart out now and eliminate any chance of the past repeating itself,” she said. Silence hung thick between you before she pulled her arms back to her body. “But I won’t, because Enid would cry and Wednesday would bury me six feet under.”

“This is my house, Tanaka,” you said. “I am more than prepared.”

“You’d better be,” she said as she started moving at a glacial pace toward the driver’s side of the car. “Because I’ll kill you and curse your entire line if you touch a hair on either of their heads.”

The threat was enough to have you shiver. Oh, if you failed and your family was cursed? They would never forgive you. They would start hunting you for sport, and it would be no less than you deserved.

Yoko stopped before opening her door.

“Not that I’ll need to,” she said. “You’re proof Enid can do it herself.”

Her words bounced around your skull as the car finally pulled away, taking all the Addams children with it. A part of you was almost… disappointed. You had grown to tolerate them over the past few months. They were rather enjoyable at times even, constantly inviting you for games. Or movies, once games had quickly become outlawed due to the… unruliness.

“I wish I had gotten another goodbye hug,” Enid said, appearing beside you seemingly out of nowhere.

You should have been able to smell her approach. Wolves were… not the most pleasant. Not horrific, simply not as appealing as humans. She had asked you to describe it once, what the difference was between her and Wednesday. Like a Christmas candle during the heat of summer, you had explained. So not like in Twilight? She had teased.

She’s my Christmas candle, you thought with a smile.

“It’s only for a weekend,” you told her. Her eyes sparkled. “Then you can have hello hugs instead.”

Her smile could have illuminated the world. “I do like hello hugs.”

“Come inside,” you said with a gesture toward the cabin, “I believe it’s going to snow.”

Enid’s joyful disposition had never waned over time. If anything, she almost seemed more joyous and carefree. Something lightened its load on your chest at the observation. You hadn’t ruined her outlook on life. She was, for all intents and purposes, outwardly okay.

A werewolf was across the room, hovering over Wednesday even as it transformed back into a person. Back into Enid. Her bare skin was shredded.

Wednesday was precisely where you had left her earlier; sitting in your small library, a book in hand and a cup of tea on the table. It was one of your more obscure books, having come from your long line of ancestors. In other words, from some murderous Frenchman’s basement. The pages were probably stained with blood.

“I had almost forgotten the joy of silence,” she said as Enid practically fell into her lap. With practised ease, she made way for her wolf without taking her eyes away from the book.

“It’s too quiet,” Enid said with a sigh.

You walked over to the record player you kept in the corner of the room as your married women talked silently amongst themselves. It was endearing to hear them talk of their young. To talk as if they truly loved them. What was that like, you wondered? To care for your young in such a deep, conditionless way?

Cold fingers ran against the thin spines of records in their cases, unsure of where to stop. Would they have ever had children if you had stayed with them? Younglings had never been in your future; you wouldn’t dare bring a child into your bloodline. But they seemed so very happy and content with their choices in life. Perhaps it was going to happen for them regardless.

Without looking, you picked a record out of its case and gently placed it on the player. Could you be trusted around their whelps? The children themselves seemed unconcerned, but what about Enid and Wednesday? Would they trust you? You weren’t even sure if you wanted them to trust you. Children were creatures you had yet to conquer.

You had attacked them. Both of them. The women you loved. They were bleeding out. Because of you.

The beautiful sounds of jazz fell from the record playing, encasing the room in a warmth that had previously been absent. Deep down you knew it wasn’t the music that made the house feel correct. But things were still new - again. You weren’t ready to make that admittance just yet.

“What are the plans for this weekend?” Enid asked when you sat in the second chair in the room. Only a small round end table was situated between you and your girls. Could… you still call them that?

“We should enjoy the silence while we can,” Wednesday said.

Enid huffed. “You know they aren’t that bad, Willa.”

They continued to bicker - lovingly, of course - while you just sat and watched. Unlike the soiree those few months ago, they were far more relaxed. Casual even, if you had to put a word on it.  Enid was bundled in warm clothes - funny, considering she ran hot - and Wednesday was in a simple black sweater and leggings.

Everything about them in that moment reminded you of college. When you would all relax in the evenings. You were usually stuck with your nose in a book, terrified you wouldn’t manage to pass your classes, let alone the bar exam. But you could never properly focus because Enid and Wednesday were always around, bickering like an old married couple even from the very beginning.

Would you ever have that relationship with them again? Simply existing with them without fear of injury or betrayal. Whether it was just you or all of you, there was tension so thick in the air it was suffocating. You didn’t want to keep a tense, cordial relationship with them. Though, it did no good to dwell on the fact. You would respect their wishes until your dying breath.

Something warm grabbed your hand. Something with claws that pressed deep into the palm of your hand. There would be indentations left behind. If she didn’t ease up, perhaps a spot or two of blood. With you, she had never learned to manage her strength; there was no real need.

You never minded.

“What do you normally do?” Enid asked.

You exhaled slowly. “I sit here, listen to jazz, and work.”

“Both of you are so boring,” Enid groaned. “It’s our one full weekend without the kids,” she continued. “We can’t waste it by working.”

“I’m not working,” Wednesday said as she placed the book down on the table and looked at her wife with the softest of smiles. “I’m reading.”

The way they looked at each other was mesmerising. It was pure, unadulterated love. You hadn’t known either of them back when Wednesday was - as Enid so endearingly described - emotionally stunted. You two hadn’t been as outwardly romantic as Enid - she set the bar rather high - but you would’ve never considered her stunted. Especially now, watching the way she looked at her wife.

“We should do something,” Enid said. Her hand squeezed yours; her nails pricked your skin. “All of us.”

“All of us, you say?” You inquired. She glared at you.

“What a scandal,” Wednesday chimed in.

“I forgot how annoying you both are,” Enid mumbled to herself with no attempt to hide her little smile.

Her smile. The thing you had looked forward to seeing every morning before everything had crashed down around you. Even on the worst of days, you knew her smile would be enough to fix everything. Just the same as you hoped you could have fixed everything for her.

Until you couldn’t.

Outside, you could hear the snow starting to fall.

“What is there to do around the cabin?” Wednesday asked; her eyes never left Enid’s. “So our winter wolf doesn’t get too antsy?”

Another squeeze of your hand, digging the sharp, colourful nails deeper.

“Well,” you drew out the word as you thought. “There’s a frozen lake down the path.” Enid’s ears perked up slightly. “Or the town over usually has a winter market around this time.”

That was what did it. At the mention of a market, Enid practically jumped up from Wednesday’s lap. You kept your eyes on her even as you saw Wednesday smile out of your periphery. Her hands clasped together and she looked between the both of you with an excitement you hadn’t seen from her since before that night.

“Grab your winter coats, we’re going to the market!” She proclaimed excitedly.

You looked over at Wednesday with a raised brow but didn’t bother stopping your smile. She smiled back; anything for your wolf.

—---

It had only been a year or two since you had last attended the market and, as such, everyone still remembered you. As such, it was a little more complicated to get through everything than you had initially thought. With everyone stopping you to talk and catch up, you felt like you were holding Enid and Wednesday back as opposed to letting them have their fun.

The sweet older lady who ran the flower shop was still talking to you when you saw Enid walking off, leaving Wednesday to sidle up beside you. Had she done that on purpose? Clearly, she hadn’t just abandoned Wednesday, right? Not in your care, at least. None of you had trusted you two alone just yet.

Even though it hurt, it was a necessary precaution.

Finally, after what had probably been an hour of conversation with the sweet flower lady, you managed to separate with a polite goodbye and a promise to stop by next time you were in town. Whether she knew of your… infliction or not, you had no clue. It didn’t matter. At least she was kind.

“Where did our pup run off to?” You asked as Wednesday all but led you through the market.

“She saw some hot cider,” Wednesday said softly, stopping at one of the little booths. “She can never turn down a sweet treat.”

“Oh, I remember. We spent far too much money on her sweet treats,” you grumbled.

If you had kept track, you would have been horrified at how much both you and Wednesday spent on Enid. It hadn’t been with the intent to brag, or show off, you just wanted her to have everything she wished. Most of the time, that included drinks and sweet treats. And you were nothing if not eager to please.

“At least it’s not chocolate,” Wednesday said in a voice so soft, you wouldn’t have imagined it had actually come from her.

She was looking down at some of the trinkets at the table. They were brilliantly made, and you smiled politely at the woman in charge before standing behind Wednesday. Over her shoulder, you could see it wasn’t particularly anything interesting. Not to her.

Her body tensed up when you brushed against her. This close, you could hear the blood coursing through her veins. It was enticing. More than enticing. Your fingers twitched with the very thought of tasting something so delectable once again. Pain pricked at the inside of your lips as you re-positioned your fangs. It would be a simple thing.

The scars on her neck looked angry; they held shame not even thousands of years of instinct could fight. You had done that to her. You had nearly killed her. She was deathly still as you lifted a shaking hand to lift the collar of her coat, hiding the guilt you could never erase.

“You look cold,” you said softly, pulling your hands back to clasp them behind your back.

You both knew you were lying.

“I’m quite warm, actually,” she said. “I figured you could tell.”

You swallowed loudly. It didn’t ease the ache that was growing in the back of your throat. If anything, it made it worse. Each time she breathed, you could see the pulse in her veins. Enid wasn’t around. Surely you could handle it this time, you were far more mature this go around.

“I still believe I was correct,” she said.

Your head tilted to the side. Correct about what?

“Your fears of being a monster are unwarranted,” she said as she gripped the blade tighter. “You wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

Right.

“We must remember that night very differently,” you said as you looked up; there was a mirror in front of you. She couldn’t see you, but you could very well see her. “I remember proving you wrong.”

You weren’t prepared for her to lean back into you. To be touching you after so long. She was cold; not from the snow starting to fall. And as ridiculous as it sounded, she felt like she trusted you. Did she? After you had very nearly killed her, could she trust you?

“You didn’t hurt me,” she said softly as she pulled your arms to wrap around her waist.

“My dear,” you whispered into her ear, “I very much did hurt you.”

“Yet I’m still here.”

You barely held back a laugh. “All that means is Enid kicked my ass.”

“And I would do it again.”

Part of you urged you to pull apart from Wednesday, like you had just been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. There was nothing wrong with holding her again; hell, your girls had practically encouraged it. But the last time Enid had seen you both together was… not pretty.

Wednesday was bleeding out from more than one bite mark.

“What are we talking about?” Enid asked after she practically squeezed herself directly in between you and Wednesday.

“Your sweet treats,” Wednesday said effortlessly. “Is it worth it?”

She wrapped her hands around the paper cup and shrugged her shoulders high. “Always.”

“I think there’s some chocolate covered strawberries a few booths away,” you said while Enid continued to shimmy her way into more warmth. “White and dark chocolate.” Both women’s eyes lit up. “My treat.”

Wednesday looked at you with soft eyes. A look she hadn’t given you since… it was nice. Without uttering a single word, you were left with a warmth in your chest that your dead heart could never replicate.

“Lead the way,” she said softly.

—---

For reasons unknown to you or Wednesday, Enid was still freezing hours after getting back to the cabin. Hot tea had been made. And remade. And remade again. Then you had finally given in and lit the fireplace, as well as setting up a pallet on the floor in front of it so she could curl up and try to warm her fur.

And she was still shivering.

“Cara mia, please.” Wednesday’s voice carried from the living room to the kitchen. “Will nothing ease your cold?”

Enid hummed. “I know something that could warm me up.”

Her quiet giggle was all you needed to hear to know what she was implying. Your darling pup was the most insatiable creature you had ever had the pleasure of knowing. Perhaps that was why she seemed to fit so well with two other partners; it would take at least two to keep her satisfied.

Outside, the front porch creaked. If you hadn’t already been accustomed to the sound, you would have brushed it off as wind. After all, it was still snowing steadily outside. But it wasn’t the sound of snow falling onto the porch. No, it was something else. Something that wasn’t supposed to be there.

In the living room, you could still hear the soft sounds of Enid and Wednesday enjoying their time together. As you passed, you could vaguely see them on the pallet in front of the fireplace. Every aspect of it reminded you of your times in university, each living your own lives, yet doing it together. Perhaps you could get back to that again. Surely their children wouldn’t mind another… parent? Hmm, that wasn’t quite right, you could figure it out-

“-Hello, bon ami.”

If you hadn’t been frozen in place, you would have slammed the door in his face. What the hell was he doing? In your home? No, he wasn’t supposed to be there. He was supposed to be back home, hunting humans for sport like everyone else. He knew better.

“You gonna let me in?” He asked in his thick accent that charmed some and repulsed others.

“Go home, Bas,” you said quietly.

“Why? You got company?” He inhaled deeply. “Oh, I’m a’comin’ in.”

He pushed his way past you into the cabin. If your mind hadn’t felt like mush, you would have had the good sense to stop him. Or at least to have warned Enid and Wednesday. But no, you were simply stuck wondering how he had even found you in the first place.

“I smell a rougarou.” His smile was sadistic and his fangs were sharp. Lethal. “What if Daddy found out, huh?”

“How about some tea?” You asked, gesturing to the kitchen.

He tilted his head to the side and looked at you. Just looked. Was that what Wednesday had seen in you that night? No, surely you had been more vicious. Nothing curious about you, that was for sure.

“Got some of that boudin left?” He asked.

You nodded once.

“Lead the way.”

He continued to look around as you did your best to lead him as far away from your girls as possible. If he wanted to make a pop-in visit, fine. But you weren’t going to let him torment everyone else in the cabin. He could have a cup of tea, some boudin, and be on his way back home.

“Make it the good way?” He asked as he practically fell into one of the chairs at the table. “I’d hate to have to help myself in this house of yours.”

Without waiting for him to finish, you tossed a bag of blood onto the table. It slid across the smooth wood until stopping directly in front of him. He didn’t even look down, just kept his cold eyes glued to yours.

“Keep your teeth to yourself,” you said.

He laughed while you turned back to the stove. The sooner you got the tea going and could get him fed, the sooner he would leave. That was all you really wanted. Things were going well, and Enid and Wednesday were in good moods. You didn’t need him to ruin it.

The stove lit with a single spark, and you gently placed the kettle on top. It would still take a minute to boil, and you had it all planned out. You would grab the blood and boudin from the fridge. Put the food in the oven, make the tea, and get him fed and out of your house.

But you should have known better.

“I smell meat,” Enid said as she practically skipped into the kitchen.

And stopped short when she saw someone at the table.

“Oh, couyon,” he said with a smile toward you once Wednesday walked in. “You naughty thing, you.”

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest. Wednesday was looking at you with her “explain Or Else” look. Something you hadn’t minded before, but now? Now it made your skin crawl. Like spiderwebs caught on every inch of your body, and you couldn’t get them off.

The pan slid smoothly into the oven, and you started the timer.

“This is Bastien,” you said with a lazy gesture toward the parasite at the end of the table. “My brother.”

“Baby brother,” he corrected quickly. “And you two must be the delectable little snacks.”

“Told you to keep your teeth to yourself,” you said with a raised brow. You quickly looked at Enid with far softer eyes. “Food will just be a few more minutes.” Then to Wednesday. “I’m making tea.”

Carefully, slowly, both Enid and Wednesday sat down at the table. Across from each other, but not near Bastien. The whole time, he watched them like a predator. Biding his time, the way he had been taught. You met his eyes.

His gaze towards your girls turned softer.

“So,” Bastien said as you turned back to the stove and grabbed the kettle. “Which one of you gave my sweet sibling all those scars?”

You poured some blood into the bottom of two mugs.

“I did,” Enid said. “So don’t try anything or you’ll have some to match.”

Bastien howled; a deep, obnoxious belly laugh. It… was nice to hear. As much as you didn’t want him there, he was your brother. Baby brother, as he constantly reminded you. There was comfort in the sound of his laugh; there always had been.

“That’s good, I like that,” he said, still failing to keep his laughter in check. “So that means your witch was the blood bag.”

You practically slammed the mug onto the table in front of Bastien. He looked up at you again, tilting his head to the side. It reminded you of Enid. He reminded you too much of Enid. No, you weren’t going to be phased. You knew the vampire charm; you wouldn’t fall for it.

“Serve yourself,” you demanded.

“Come on, cher,” he said as you proceeded to pour tea into Wednesday’s and Enid’s mugs. “I’m just askin’ if that’s what you almost died for.” You set the teapot on the table and walked back to the oven. “Simple curiosity.”

“Almost died?” Enid asked.

You didn’t turn around.

“The scars didn’t give it away?” Bastien asked.

You grabbed the kitchen counter.

“How did you know?” Wednesday asked.

He started talking, but you couldn’t hear him. You didn’t have to. The entire night was engraved into every fold of your brain, etched into the walls of your skull. No amount of alcohol, or nicotine, or blood, or the occasional line would erase. It stayed there, taunting you. Teasing you.

Blood pumped in your ears. It was loud, but not loud enough to ease the growls and screams that were bouncing off your skull. The trees soared past you. Each step of your foot was jarring as it practically bounced off the hard ground.

Wednesday’s blood still coated your lips.

The pain in your throat was harsh; it wouldn’t heal fast enough to ease the ache. Miles and miles flew by without you ever noticing. The sun rose, then set, then rose, and finally set again. Each new day was a blur. It didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter.

You hoped Enid was okay.

And Wednesday was alive.

Oh. The thought of Wednesday, lying there with your teeth marks in her flesh. Blood pooling around her; her life pooling around her. All because of you. Because of you. You killed her. You killed one of the loves of your life.

Panting breaths came faster. You killed her. Everything slowly came to a stop. The bark was rough under your fingers as you leaned against a tree to stay upright. Around you, the bugs from the bayou were loud in your ears. Still not louder than the fight.

You killed her.

Possibly killed Enid as well.

You killed them both.

Something scratched against the soft tissue inside your throat. It grew and grew until you couldn’t tell where your exterior wounds ended and the interior ones began. Only when you inhaled deeply did you discover the cause.

“What you screamin’ for, cher?” Daddy said, appearing out of thin air. Or directly in front of you. You didn’t know. “Thought you were up at that fancy university of yours.”

“Looks like you brawled with a hunter, little monster,” Bastien said. “Did you at least get a snack out of it?”

A snack.

Wednesday.

You leaned over and expelled every bit of blood you had gotten into your body. It didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it only exacerbated the sharp pain in your chest to see just how much you had taken from her. From your girl. Your Wednesday.

A chunk of the countertop broke off in your hand. The kitchen went silent. You blinked slowly before looking down. It wouldn’t be an easy fix. But you could do it, it would just take a weekend or two. Hopefully you wouldn’t have to replace the entire counter.

“Boudin’s burnin’, cher,” Bastien said softly from beside you. When had he gotten there? “Go sit down, I got it.”

Niceties would get him nowhere. And yet, you still went and sat at the table between Enid and Wednesday. They were looking at you, you could feel it. But you couldn’t take your eyes away from the scar on Wednesday’s hand.

The scars you had caused.

You killed her.

“I know I asked for dinner,” Bastien said, “but I think I should head out for the night.” His hand rested on your shoulder; it was cold and soft. “It was nice meeting you both.”

He leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek. His lips - much like you believed of your own - were cold. It wasn’t long before he pulled away. His footsteps were loud against the wooden floor, slowly getting softer and softer until the door opened and clicked shut.

Leaving you alone with your two girls.

Your two girls you nearly killed.

A monster.

[ohisms]

↪ 𝑽𝑨𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑳𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮 . ( a collection of sentence starters from the 2004 film . adjust phrasing as necessary . mature themes present . )

oh , [ name ] . it's just you .

where are you going to run , [ name ] ?

what are you saying ?

why do you think i brought you here ?

you said you believed in my work .

i would kill myself before helping in such a task .

you've been so kind to me , [ name ] .

you can't kill me , [ name ] .

so , you're the great [ name ] .

we all have our little problems .

let's make it your decision , shall we ?

i wish you a week in hell .

why don't you do something about it ?

this is all a test of faith .

i can curse all i want , dammit .

you . turn around .

strangers don't last long here .

the laws of men mean little to me .

i don't need your help .

you stay here . they're trying to kill me .

nice to see you too , [ name ] .

did i do something to you in a past life ?

i hope you do have a heart , [ name ] . because someday i'd like to drive a stake through it .

your reputation precedes you .

i am hollow ! and i will live ... forever .

please , say you will not try again .

do not fear me ... everybody else fears me .

i was unprepared . it won't happen again .

do you understand forgiveness ?

i would rather die than help you .

don't be boring , everyone who says that always dies .

may he rest in peace .

how long has it been , 300 , 400 years ?

you don't remember , do you ?

what exactly is it i am to be remembering ?

it's no surprise you would know all about me .

we have such history , you and i .

have you ever wondered why you have such horrific nightmares ?

[ name ] , it's alright , i'm taking you home .

what , did you think we haven't tried everything before ?

no one knows how to kill [ name ] .

i could have used that information earlier .

would you like me to refresh your memory a little ?

allow me to ... reintroduce myself .

i think we've overstayed our welcome .

don't give me that look .

you were right . i'm sorry .

monster ? who's the monster here ? i have done nothing wrong !

look , there's still time .

you were right . i'm sorry .

do you have any family , [ name ] ?

if you value your lives , and the lives of your kin , you will kill me .

evil may have created it , may have left its mark on it , but evil does not rule it .

now you know why they call me a murderer .

oh my god ... you've been bitten .

so much trouble ... so much trouble .

now you will become that which you hunted so passionately . may others be as passionate in their hunting of you .

don't worry , god will forgive us .

how many commandments can we break in one day ?

oh my god , you should be terrified .

how does it feel to be a puppet on my string ?

neither of us has ever settled for half .

you make my skin crawl .

i'm not gonna like this , am i ?

one brief moment of pain , and we can be together forever .

you have no heartbeat .

you are nothing but damned bones , and damned souls .

well , that doesn't sound like a good thing .

we don't have a choice . just don't get killed .

you don't understand , it doesn't matter what happens to me .

god is not the only one that can create life .

you can't go until i say you can go , and i say you can go when you're dead !

you're supposed to die .

we are both part of the same great game , [ name ] , we just find ourselves on opposite sides of the board .

you are being used , [ name ] , as was i . but i escaped , so can you .

if you're going to kill someone , kill them . don't stand there talking about it .

all i want is life . the continuation of my kind .

some things are better left forgotten .

[empty-movement]

Welcome to Something Eternal: A Website Forum in 2023 wtf lmao

It's 2023, and a single belligerent rich guy destroyed one of the primary focal points of uh...global communication. Tumblr is, shockingly, kinda thriving despite the abuse it gets from its owners, but that I will call the iconic refusal of Tumblr users to let Tumblr get in the way of their using Tumblr. Reddit killed its API, removing the functionality of mobile apps that made it remotely readable (rip rif.) Discord, our current primary hangout, has made countless strange choices lately that indicate it has reached the summit of its usability and functionality, and can only decline from here as changes get made to prepare for shareholders. (NOTE: WROTE THIS POST BEFORE THEIR MOBILE "REDESIGN" LMAO)

The enshittification is intense, and it's coming from every direction. Social media platforms that felt like permanent institutions are instead slowly going to let fall fallow incredible amounts of history, works of art, thought, and fandoms. It kinda sucks!

A couple years ago, I posted about a new plan with a new domain, to focus on the archiving of media content, as I saw that to be the fatal weakness of the current ways the internet and fandoms work. Much has happened since to convince me to alter the direction of those efforts, though not abandon them entirely.

Long story short? We are launching a fucking website forum. In 2023.

If you remember In the Rose Garden, much about Something Eternal will be familiar. But this has been a year in the making, and in many ways it's far more ambitious than IRG was. We have put money on this. The forum is running on the same software major IT and technology businesses use, because I don't want the software to age out of usability within five years. It has an attached gallery system for me to post content to, including the Chiho Saito art collection. It has a profile post system that everyone already on the forum has decided is kinda like mini Twitter? But it is, fundamentally, a website forum, owned and run and moderated by us. We are not web devs. But we have run a website on pure spite and headbutting code for over twenty years, and we have over a decade of experience maintaining social spaces online, both on the OG forum, and on our Discord. Better skilled people with far more time than we have can and will build incredible alternatives to what is collapsing around us. But they're not in the room right now. We are. And you know what? Maybe it's time to return to a clunkier, slower moving, more conversation focused platform.

You're not joining a social media platform with the full polish of dozens of devs and automated moderation. Things might break, and I might need time to fix them. The emojis and such are still a work in progress. Because e-mails no longer route in reasonable normal ways, the sign-up process instead happens within the software, and has to be approved by mods. Design and structure elements may change. Etc. The point being, that the forum isn't finished, but it is at a place where I feel like I can present it to people, and it's people I need to help direct what functions and things will be in this space. You all will shape its norms, its traditions, its options...choices I could try to make now, but really...they're for us to create as a group! But the important stuff? That's there. Now let's drive this baby off the damn lot already!

Come! Join us!!

PS. As always, TERFs and Nazis need not apply.

[imsobadatnicknames2]

ok but i need the evrart claire essay

Okay just be warned that this is gonna be less of an "essay" and more of a loose collection of thoughts, and I don't know how fresh or novel any of these ideas are going to be when it pertains to popular Disco Elysium fan discourse because I don't really do fandom, you know?

Anyway, I think the most obvious factet of Evrart's character is how he very intentionally calls to mind a caricature of corrupt union leaders, the image of a sleazy mobster who only cares about his own personal gain but pays lip service to leftist politics and pretends to care about the interests of workers as a way to obtain and maintain his power. And I think a lot of people straightforwardly read him as such, because that's the way he carries himself and the type of character the game is riffing on. There's also the question of how much of Evrart's manipulative, duplicitous attitude is just how he normally acts and how much of it is him specifically acting that way towards Harry and Kim specifically, it's important to have in mind that your main character is a cop and that would definitely play a role in making Evrart go out of his way to be a bit more of a bastard and toy with you a bit before he decides to actually do anything helpful.

However, once you dig a little deeper into his characterization, it becomes clear that he's pulling a very interesting double bluff, because it becomes apparent that the shady mobster who only cares about his personal gain is an act he's putting on. He's very self-aware about the fact that he's playing the villain, he seems to actively revel in it, but ultimately, it seems like he does it because playing the villain is the way he gets shit done.

This is not to say he's not actually corrupt, or that he's not ALSO involved in all sorts of shady stuff and taking advantage of his position of power, but the game does make it apparent that on some level he DOES have the interests of the people of Martinaise at heart.

For example, it is textually stated that the harbor doesn't need a night watchman, and Evrart created the position specifically to provide a source of income for René. He knows the pension Rene gets is not enough for him to live on, but he's also aware that René is the sort of right-wing guy who would rather starve to death than take a handout (especially from those dirty union commies), so Evrart created a job position which pretty much involves doing nothing for a few hours every night so he could help him with his economic troubles in a way he wouldn't refuse out of principle. René hates his guts, ideologically stands against everything his organization represents, and is generally an unlikeable asshole and a fascist prick, but he's also a disadvantaged member of the community and that seems to matter more.

Even when he asks you to get the signatures to build the community center, which is definitely one of the most morally questionable things he does during the events of the game (as it will improve the community, but at the same time displace the people from the fishing village), his intentions seem to be ultimately good. Due to the very nature of his character and the act he puts on, it's purposefully hard to tell when he's being sincere and when he's being manipulative. However, if Harry's drama and empathy skills are high enough when he's confronted about it, you'll be able to tell that he's not lying about his motives for wanting to build a community center or about the fact that he intends to provide better housing for the people displaced by the project, and that he feels genuine rage about their current living conditions. It can still be said that he's ignoring their self-determination and essentially forcing these people out of their current homes, but he does seem to have good intentions and think he's doing a good thing for them in the long run, even if his methods are morally questionable at best.

In that way, the Union is an extension of him in this regard too. They're pretty unapologetic about the fact that they're openly operating as a crime syndicate, but the game doesn't give you any reasons to believe they're lying when they say they're doing it as a way to muslce out all the more dangerous gangs and crime organizations out of Martinaise, or that their involvement in the drug trade is at least partially motivated by a desire to make sure it's not controlled by more dangerous and violent crime organizations. Again, they're playing the villain as a way to fill that power vacuum and make sure more dangerous people don't fill that role (but of course, that doesn't erase the fact that, noble as their intentions may be, they're still involved in all these shady activities and turning a pretty substantial profit from them too)

Of course, on the other hand, just because the game seems to hint at the fact that Evrart and the Union are, deep down, a force for good, doesn't erase the fact that he's done plenty of bad shit to further his interests, and the game doesn't shy away from this. He's still extremely corrupt, his long-term plan to wrestle control of the harbor away from the company and turn it into a worker-owned operation (which *would* massively improve the material conditions of the dockworkers if succesful) involves endangering the lives of a lot of his own workers, he and his brother Edgar pass the position of union foreman back and forth between each other to circumvent the term limit and keep themselves in power indefinitely, and if you explore all dialogue options with the Deserter it's all but explicitly stated that they rose to power by getting him to assassinate the previous Union forewoman.

These are things that Evrart himself would probably rationalize as sacrifices that need to be made for the greater good. After all, it is implied that the previous union forewoman was also corrupt, except in favor of the company's interests, and might have even been a company plant. However, this doesn't make those things morally right. Good intentions nonwithstanding, it's clear that the Claire brothers are very "the ends justify the means" kind of people, they probably see getting the previous Union leader killed or endangering the lives of the dockworkers to overthrow the company that exploits them as "pulling the lever" in the trolley problem, which is extremely callous at best.

Here's where we get a little more into "disjointed thoughts" territory, but Evrart can also be seen as a critique of the limits of trade unionism and social democrat politics. Something that I completely missed in my first playthrough but was able to catch on during my second is that the people of the fishing village refuse to unionize, and as a result they don't get the same level of support and protection that the union provides to the people of the more urban section of Martinaise. This is apparently widely known enough for characters other than Evrart to comment on (I forget what character I learned this from, but it was definitely not Evrart). So it's clear that Evrart and the Union put their interests of the members of their own organization over those of other working class people, which is one criticism that can be leveraged against the way a lot of leftists seem to treat unions as the ultimate tool for worker class liberation.

Similarly, when Evrart tells you his long-term plans, it's clear that his ultimate goals don't involve complete worker liberation. As far as the game shows, he's a socdem who's still looking to work within the confines of capitalism. There are more radically left wing characters in Disco Elysium, but Evrart is the only one with any actual power to affect change, which kinda speaks to the lack of presence of more hardline leftist positions in mainstream politics. As someone living in Latin America, I kinda ended up seeing a bit of a lot of our currrent socdem politicians in him in that respect, I guess, but i'd need more time to articulate this thought properly, I guess.

Ultimately, I think Evrart is an amazingly crafted character. He evokes a well-known archetype of a shady, corrupt, power-hungry union leader, but he adds a lot of depth, self-awareness, and nuance to it and subverts that characterization in several ways. I think he atually serves an important role of ideologically challenging players who share the developers' and writers' political leanings. I think it would have been very self-congratulatory and autocomplacent to make the most influential leftist character in the game an unambiguously good paragon of workers' rights and working class liberation. By instead giving us someone who's an absolute callous bastard who definitely has a bit of blood on his hands, who's a socdem at best and a self-serving mob boss at worst, but can ultimately be interpreted as a force for good, and asking the players to decide what they think of him I think it brings interesting questions to the table of our commitment to material gains, what sorts of people we're willing to work with, and the sort of acts we're willing to tolerate, and makes the game a lot more thematically rich.

I also think a good analysis of Evrart is incomplete without an analysis of the ways in which he serves a a charater foil for Joyce, but I don't feel like getting into that rn.

[lvrhughes]

Underage | L. Hughes

word count: 1.79k

pairing: Luke Hughes x fem!reader

warnings: underage drinking? (it's legal in Canada though??)

summary: Luke meets a pretty girl at the bar

requested: no

notes: i don’t understand drinking age in the US i’ll be so real i’m canadian it’s legal at 18 or 19 here

not my gif!

“Are you even legal?” The question slipped out before you could think, quickly hiding the embarrassment with a sip of your drink while you watched the boys cheeks turn a dark pink.

“I- um.” He barely could speak, his voice shaky and his hands just as bad. Who you had to assume to be his brother, stood beside his, leaned up to rest his arm around the taller ones shoulder. 

“He’s not but we just needed him for some team bonding so we thought it’d be fine, he won’t drink or anything.” The older one assured, his tone was calm and collected, ignoring the odd idea that some random girl who just happened to be walking past the group would ask such an absurd question.

“Oh man, I don’t care if he does. I don’t work here. I just clearly have had too much and no filter.” The words slipped out again, the realization of how stupid you might have sounded hitting you after. 

A look of relief flashed over the younger one's face though, his posture relaxing a little more while his brother’s, as you assumed, arm slid off his shoulder, bending over in laughter.

“Holy shit! Luke, you looked horrified!” the shorter one spoke, words interrupted by laughter, while you tried not to laugh with him.

The taller one, Luke, rolled his eyes, smacking his brother before speaking again.

“I thought I was about to be kicked out, I think being a little scared is fair.” He grumbled, staring his brother down while he simply laughed. 

“I’m sorry I scared you, if it makes you feel better I’m not supposed to be here either.” Your hand shot to your mouth quickly, immediately knowing that saying that aloud would lead to you being kicked out.

“What?” The shorter one spoke again, you really needed to learn his name, with a look of shock among his features.

“I shouldn't have said that.”

“How did you get in?” It was Luke this time, his voice filled with curiosity. 

“My best friend works here, she gets me in.”

He nodded his head, the brunette beside him staring in awe while you shyly mixed the drink you held, damn near empty now. 

“Can I get your number?” Luke spoke quickly and quietly, his hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he asked. 

You nodded, a small smile on your face at the awkward yet cute movements of the boy, allowing him to pass you his phone. Typing your number quickly before snapping a quick selfie, creating a perfect contact for the cute boy you’d just met at the bar. You watched him look over the contact as he held the phone in his hands, a soft smile and blush covering his cheeks. 

“Why don’t you sit with us?” The shorter of the brothers spoke again, his arm wrapping around your waist for a second, pulling you off guard, as he moved you from passing strangers. 

“I thought you had some team bonding thing happening here?”

“Oh we do, they just definitely won’t care. This is just an excuse for the team to get drunk together once more before the season starts.” He explained, Luke standing uncomfortably behind him.

You simply nodded, not having any words to answer. If you said no you’d be missing out on a really cute boy, but if you said yes you're subject to meeting more strangers tonight. It seemed like a loose-loose scenario, so fuck it.

“Yeah I’ll sit with y’all, just let me get another drink.” 

The boys nodded, Luke offering to come with you while the other deemed he’d be at the table with the team.

“So is that your brother?” The question came quick, the moment it was just you and Luke walking towards the counter.

“Yeah, he’s one of my older brothers.” 

You nodded, asking more short questions to get to know the tall, curly haired boy more. Allowing his short and simple answers to gather more about him, listening to the tone of his voice while he spoke. He only silenced when you’d reached the bar, glancing for your friend before calling her over.

“Another one? Already?” The bartender smiled, shaking her head while you shone a shy smile towards your best friend. “I see you got company though.” 

She wiggled her eyebrows while you reached over the counter, smacking her arm lightly while she laughed. She continued mixing the drink, unphased by your previous actions as Luke stood and stared in awe, simple thoughts running through his mind of how pretty you looked. 

“Hey, be nice to the bartender, I could just not make you drinks!” She spoke after, pouring the finished drink into another glass before sliding it to you. 

“You’d never, you love me too much.” You grinded, sending a kiss in the air to her, watching her pretend to catch it while you walked away with Luke.

“So, what’s your team like?”

The question came from your lips quickly, taking a small sip of the drink you had just gained after while Luke scratched at the back of his neck. 

“They’re… a lot sometimes but they’re the best I could even ask for.” His words had a sense of pride in them, proving how much his team meant to him.

“What is your team for?” 

A blush quickly covered his face, leaving him a soft, mumbling mess. His hand running through his curls rapidly while he tried to figure out how to answer the question. 

“I- Uh-” He interrupted himself with a sigh, deeming lying held no hope, “You ever watch the NHL?”

Confusion struck your features, stopping in your tracks to stare down the tall boy for a moment, seeing the concern that struck his features. You shook your head slightly, seeing his shoulders drop in relief at the admission that you don’t watch hockey. 

“Well I- uh, play for the New Jersey Devils?” The sentence came out more of a question than anything else, his hand still anxiously rubbing the back of his neck. 

“That’s cool.” You smiled at him, seeing the shock that covered his face when you seemingly did not care that he was a household name. 

“Thank God you didn’t freak out.” He mumbled, a small smile appearing across his features again, taking your hand in his tentatively.

Leading you to the table, seeing his group of rowdy teammates taking up an entire corner in the bar, leading you to the end of the table, pulling out a chair for you while you glanced through the roster. 

A few faces seemed familiar, probably from the few times you had watched a hockey game with your best friend, who was a hockey fanatic, but not of the Devils. No, her heart was set on the Canucks, having come from Vancouver. 

“Lukey! You got a girl now?” One cheered, his voice loud over the noise, clear he’d already had a few too many drinks. 

“Fuck off Daws.” Luke groaned, his arm wrapping around the top of your chair, pulling it right beside his. 

“She scared the shit out of him when we were walking in!” Luke’s brother cheered back, going into detail of how you met the brothers. 

“Lu,” You whispered, leaning into him to gain his attention, “What’s your brother’s name?” 

A pink flushed over his face when he turned, leaving barely three inches between your faces, before he answered. 

“Jack,” He paused, leaning back and pointing out his teammates one by one, “That’s Dougie, Nico, Timo, Šimon..” 

His list continued, watching certain players acknowledge his introductions and wave towards you while others continued their own conversations, laughing with each other. You smiled at a few of the players, letting your gaze wander back onto Luke after, watching the way his eyes lit up as he heard his teammates talking about something that piqued his interest, quickly shoving his way into the conversation. 

“Luke, pay some attention to your girl before she leaves you.” One man spoke up, shoving Luke back towards you from where he’d been leaning, if you remembered right, it was Dougie. 

A darker shade covered his cheeks, his attention turning to you, where you had been sitting, admiring the boy talking to his friends. His eyes caught your quickly, holding until you broke, glancing down at his lips before you could stop and think. 

A small smile covered his face, his attention fully on you as he maneuvered your body, pulling your legs over his, pulling you as close as possible. A look beyond normal flooded his eyes, his brother could see it from miles away, the look of admiration, of love and lust that threatened to take over. 

“Would you go on a date with me?” His voice held a note of fear, yet the question slipped out before he could think, his teammates silencing their conversations to listen quickly. 

“I’d love to.” 

The smile that broke out on his face was enough to elicit one from you, matching grins painting your faces while his brother shared a similar one. A sense of pride flowing from Jack, watching his little brother find a girl. 

Your eyes flashed down to Luke’s lips once more, more confident than the last look. His eyes followed yours, watching your gaze drop while he did the same to you before reaching out.

His arm wrapping around your waist, sliding you forwards, gently as if to give you the choice to pull away. Like you ever would.

He dropped his head, his face barely apart from yours, your breaths mingling together while he waited, seeing if you’d pull back. He watched you carefully, watching you lean forward slightly, lessening the distance between, before he made his move. 

Pressing his lips against yours, feeling your body melt into his, his hands holding your waist while your legs stayed over his lap, sitting sideways in the uncomfortable bar chair while your hands moved to his hair. Running a soft hand through his curls, feeling the way he leaned in for more, feeling how much he liked having your hands in his hair. Feeling him pull way for air, pressing his forehead against yours to keep you close, making sure your hands stayed where they were. 

A smile covered your lips, seeing one cover his lips too. His cheeks flushed pink while cheers from his teammates filled the bar, earning your move to hide your face in his chest, having his arms wrap around you tightly, protectively. 

“So how about that date?” 

You laughed at his words, leaning back to stare up at him, seeing the sly smile on his face before you leaned forward to press another soft kiss to his lips, silencing his horrible jokes.

[mercyk1ll3r]

Bats and Axes

Pairing; Ticci toby x proxy!femreader

Summary; a couple months after becoming a proxy, a strange boy sparks your interest.

Warnings; slightly graphic violence, psychopathic reader, not much for first chap tbh.

Wc; 1k+

Credits; axe & bone header - menschenopfer, blood dividers - bucciniexe, caution tape - cafekitsune.

a/n; this will most likely be a multiple part series if you guys r interested in reading it :3 (lowercase intended, idgaf about grammer if i'm writing for fun)

"kill them" the voice pounded in your head, sending shivers down your body and tingling in all your limbs. causing you to grip you head and shake violently at the slightest thought of disobeying.

you could feel his presence engulf and fog your brain, making you nothing but a zombie, a puppet to him. your legs move before you can process. the tingling not ceasing, you can hardly feel your body or collect your thoughts. just a fog as you try to get a hold of yourself or form a coherent thought other then killing.

unsurprisingly your legs take you bolting towards the couple walking a little too closely for comfort near slenderman's mansion, swinging your bat ruthlessly into the woman's face. screams erupting from the both of them, in one of the most pure animalistic sounds humans can create, the sound of pure terror, you cant help but let a smile creep onto your face. this was your favorite part of your job.

you limp your way back to the mansion, now covered in blood and completely exhausted, atleast taking the time to dip your metal bat into the nearby stream.

finally arriving back in your bedroom and stripping off your ruined clothing that reek of death and changing into fresh ones, you crash into your bed. shaking slightly from all the adrenaline still pumping through your body.

you shoot up still on edge as u hear a knock on your door, "cmon y/n you left you leftovers outside, when will you learn to clean up after yourself?" sighing with annoyance you open your door, meeting eyes with ben. he was always fucking bothering you about something, yet he was still one of your best friends, you cant be too picky around here and you guys shared some interests. "wasn't me ben sorry." you say sighing and returning to the comfort of your bed, your body still aching.

"which other proxy kills people by completely bashing their faces in?" u turn around to face him with a defeated expressed, "okay fine it was me, can't i just leave it for EJ?" he just looks at you with that insufferable expression he always does "okay fine i'll go, i'll go!"

wandering back outside the mansion you set your course for the couples mangled bodies, as you reach the area you see a boy you don't recognize. he stands above the bodies seemingly just inspecting them, you grip you bat a bit tighter as you inch closer. "thi-iss your handywork?" as he speaks he turns up to look at you, granting you a better look at his face, seemingly unaffected by your presence, he must be a proxy.

"uhm.. yeah, i was coming to get the bodies." this boy unnerved you, sickly grey skin and a metal cage mask around his mouth showing very little of his mouth, two hatchets hanging low on his hips. "you must be.." his breathy and hoarse voice interrupted by his neck jerking violently to the side. "be a n-new proxy then"

you weren't exactly new, although it was hard to tell. memories of your old life becoming cloudy and harder to recall each day that passed, it had atleast been a couple months though. "new enough not to have met you i guess.." he tilts his head at you stepping over the bodies until there was an uncomfortable lack of distance between you two, what the fuck was this guys problem?

he scans your face seemingly as you meet his brown eyes, pupils blown wide and crazy, before he glanced down to your metal baseball bat. "i'm toby, i'm sure w-we'll be seeing eachother ah-around" he stares blanky at your face waiting for your reaction as he towered over you. "y/n" is all u say as he gives you a slight nod and steps past you, heading in the direction of the mansion.

there was something about this guy.. he was kinda creepy but something about him made you replay the moment over and over again, thinking of his wild eyes staring down at you. you try to shake off the weird interaction and step forward to the bloodied bodies.

"oh yeah, i think toby's back now, he was off on an assignment for a couple months." ben spoke as he continued mashing his controller buttons. he insisted you come over and play mario kart with him after he finally got his hands on a copy. "yeah i met him earlier.. what's his deal? he kinda freaks me out."

"do you remember that huge fire in that happened a couple years ago in the suburbs? totally whipped out the entire neighborhood, killed most of the people inside the houses too."

"oh yeah.. some girl who was in my math class died, she was all my school was talking about for weeks, endless assemblies and memorials." you surprise yourself with the words coming out of your mouth, the memory fleeting and fuzzy.

"well that was toby, killed his dad and set his house on fire. one time i saw him without a shirt on, he's got a bunch or gnarly burn scars.." ben seemed a little sad as he spoke which was odd because he rarely had any type of sympathy for anyone.

"that's pretty brutal.." is really all you can muster, you don't know what else to say. every proxy has their hands dirty with blood after all.

"ben oh-open up-pp!" you jump a little as you hear someone pounding on the door. "dude chill out, i'm coming." ben rises from his nest of pillows and blankets in front of his shitty old tv and lazily walks to the door.

"hey man, it's been a while." you can barely see who's outside the door, but you already recognize his raspy stutter. "ca-nnn i use your comm-computer?" "uhm yeah i guess, for what?" "for uhh.." he trails off as he seemingly notices your presence, eyes going slightly wide with a flustered expression on his face as you lock eyes.

"uhm nevermind i-i don't need it." he says bringing his eyes back to ben's face before hurrying off in the other direction leaving ben at his open door.

ben closes his door and returns to sitting beside you, "what the fuck was that? he's being so weird, well i mean, weirder then usual." he speaks annoyed before unpausing his game.

a/n: hey guys!! sorry this was short and ended kinda abruptly, i've been having bad writers block completing this -__- but regardless i hope u enjoyed. i'm super excited to continue this story and i already have future chapters planned, (probably gonna be a slowburn sorry guys)

[ghostlyferrettarot]

✨️PICK A PICTURE: ✨️🎀🩷What would make you famous?✨️🎀🩷

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🎀If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!🎀

🩷Masterlist🩷

🩵Pile 1: The Fool, 7 of Pentacles and Ace of Cups.

Hi pile 1! I feel an emphatic and understanding aura from you right away. You are someone who is humanitarian, who wants to change the world for the better; you believe in fairness and equality. Your emphatic nature is what can make you known; you deserve to be hear by other's, i feel like you may have really unique ideas that can change a lot of other's perspectives for a greater good.

You are good with words and clever, use this communicative charisma to reach other's pile 1! You could achieve a lot by sharing your voice and your ideas, this could be through art, politics, social media, etc.

You have the capacity to built a community that will feel represented by your ideas and thoughts, your own "tribe". So don't be afraid to speak your mind and share a part of yourself with the world 🩵

🌟Song:

🩷Pile 2: The Empress, 4 of Wands and Queen of Wands.

Hi pile 2! You are really charming and charismatic, this could open a lot of doors for you! Something like acting, social media or related to put yourself in public is really prominent for this pile.

I see you working with others and connecting through your talents with many, "collaborations" is what i heard. You could also really like the arts, for some i see fashion, directing, styling, etc. Creating your own brand from scratch; you are most definitely meant to create something my pile 2, "you are not the muse, you are the creator" its also what i heard!

I feel like you already know what this is; this project could have been in your mind for sometime now. Your guides want you to know that you can do it, they have your back and you are beyond talented and capable to do that thing that lights up your heart💕

🌟Song:

🧡Pile 3: The Magician, 4 of Cups and 10 od Cups.

Hi pile 3! You are someone really unique, you have a different perspective that other's, and this is your strenght pile 3.

I sense a lot of artistic energy from you; you could be painters, poets, writes, illustrators, dancer, etc. You unique vision and capacity to put this into the 3D will get you far. Although not everyone may understand your craft and art, be sure that what you do is especial and you will find those who will cherish what you do!

Don't listen to what other's think and make sure to perfect your skills, focus in what you want to achieve and set your own goals; even if other's don't get it, you are the Magician and you have the ability to manifest your dream career pile 3! Be sure to shine for your true colors, you don't need anyone but yourself and you don't have to prove anything to anyone 🫧

🌟Song:

💖Thanks for reading and tell me if it resonated 💖

[moonsaver]

Oh my god okay so i have to brainrot really really fast about yandere sunday

So so imagine being sunday's little longlasting childhood crush that he swears he's grown out of and doesn't care about anymore and he browses through a collection of lovers he could possibly take on since he's now the head and everything, acts so indifferent about you (of course, mainly because of the Dreammaster's concern), and swears he doesn't think about you as often as he used to when he still had a habit of sneezing into his wings or hiding behind robin, but when he sees you actually taking on a lover that's not him he finds it infuriating.

Oh my god this man seethes whenever he sees you with your newfound love. He swears in his mind no one knows you better than him and that dazed fool beside you is just toying and playing with your feelings. It only serves to infuriate him more because how dare they be such a flippant person? (Totally not because it's you they're with). He used to spend his time purposefully shifting his schedule around a bit to take more elongated surveying in the areas you frequent but now he has to avoid them because he's barely able to hold back with a strained smile whenever he sees you with them. The first and last time you spoke with your lover in tow, Sunday felt blinding, hot rage like a smelted iron rod glowing red.

And of course, he's over you. You used to be friends, that too, with just robin. Of course he doesn't care. You simply used to invite him over to play with you and robin because he was her brother. And you shared your candies with him too because he was her brother. And you smiled at him and protected him when he needed it just because.. he was.. robin's brother. Of course.

It's a childhood thing. That's what he's so thoroughly convinced about, as he manages to craft up your dream so skillfully, managing the entire dreamscape on his back, a bead of sweat rolling from the side of his temple to the edge of his chin as he controls your supposedly perfect dream. If you could call it yours, even.

Your "perfect" dream had that bastard. Not sunday. You don't know what's good for you, it's alright. Sunday decided to take on many burdens when he chose to create the sweetdream paradise, what's another one? And it's not soon before he pushes you deeper into that thick, hazy fog of a dream, replacing your lover with him instead, crafting the perfect scene in a movie where you both end up together after tragic struggles. And it's such a shame when you wake up, because it can't happen. Oh well, Sunday's waiting for you in the real world too, regardless. Why don't you both catch up? Just like you used to as kids.